The Vermillion Harvest III: Sacrifice and Redemption
by SomeCrazyDude1113
Summary: Jurgen de Buhr has vanished taking Lawrence with him. Weary but determined, Holo and Ranger form a pack willing to go to any length to topple Jurgen's empire, save Lawrence and bring the tyrant to justice; to the ends of the earth if they must. No one knows how this will end, but one thing is sure, it will all come to an end. (Haven't read any of them? Read the authors notes)
1. AN Prologue

**Author's Notes**

If you have not read the two previous installments, fear not the prologue and first chapter will bring you up to speed. This work of fanfiction operates like a novel so chapters are long and plentiful and the plot moves along at a steady pace.

**Content Advisory**

Like always this story contains graphic depictions of violence such as; decapitations, lacerations, amputations, perforations, blunt force trauma and so forth. There's also instances of animal abuse adult and themes such as lechery and substance abuse.

This work also contains controversial topics such as politics and differing moral values. Mind you the opinions regarding said topics as expressed by varying characters do not wholly reflect the views of the author. This is not a story that appeals to the faint of heart and easily offended.

**Inconsistencies**

The timeline takes place shortly after Novel 17 before wolf and parchment and spring log some spoilers I suppose of you've been aloof the last few years. I began writing this story before finishing the light novels so any and all inconsistencies are due to the ignorance of the time.

**Special thanks**

** Isuna Hasekura:** mastermind behind the Spice and Wolf franchise.

**Jack London:** Who wrote stories set in my favorite frontier and inspired the wilderness aspects of this story.

**Alaxandre Dumas:** Who inspired my style of writing with his own whom I have revered as a type of mentor in my literary journey.

And to all those who have reviewed, followed and favorited this work, your support has been very dear to me and I'm looking forward to ending this adventure with all of you.

And now the conclusion

**The Vermilion Harvest III: Sacrifice and Redemption**

* * *

_"__The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls…" -Edgar Allen Poe_

**Prologue**

Two figures, a young boy and a middle aged woman, awaited in agonizing idleness within a dark and dreary antechamber beseeching light from the cindered logs resigning in the andirons of the fireplace. The lad stood before it yet felt no warmth from the cold he desired to escape from his heart. The lady stared at from her chair next to a small table yet saw no light from the darkness in her mind.

A slight clunk was heard reverberating within the walls, and then another and another. Both followed the clunks with their eyes till stopping at the door which elegantly swung ajar revealing the specter upon whom they waited.

Stepping through the under arch with a slight hobble the man just came within the outstretched fingers of the firelight's reach. He was an older gentlemen groomed with a light gray beard and white ponytail tied with a black ribbon and decorated in a white ruffled shirt, black vest with golden buttons, black trousers and dress shoes with white stockings betwixt them and alas a finely crafted cane of which his burden depended.

He moved towards the fire pit repeating the clunk in his stride until positioned to be more formally acquainted with the boy and woman.

"Forgive this disregard of finality _monsieur_ Col and _Mademoiselle _Hanna, but this need for security will can be explained where your ignorance ends and my fore knowledge begins."

Col, furthest removed from a forgiving mood, replied with fluster, "I'm sorry but, you are again?"

Upon bowing with the gentlemanly curtsy that was finely tuned by his tenure, the man introduced himself, "I am known as Count Laternieux, founder and owner of The Safeguard Association."

"What do you do?"

"Officially, I oversee a process called indemnification, a method I developed that helps shop owners and other heads of business acquire the funds necessary to reclaim lost assets."

"And unofficially?" pressed the young Col with hostile scrutiny. Lightly tossing up his hand as if to cast it off the Count replied, "Unofficially, I assist another group reclaim that which is lost. Once there was a time when the crown employed a secret group of operatives who were masters of tactics, combat and espionage. A group that, even when disbanded by the late king, lingered on without his knowing. A group known as the rangers."

"What have we to do with this group?" inquired Col with strength that was draining from his limbs. Hanna had yet to move, she only listened.

"An attempt as been made on the lives of your Master Lawrence and Madame Holo. One made by an organization that operates in darkness and seeks to rid the world of pagan gods and those in close association with them."

A subtle gasp escaped the chest of Hanna who otherwise remained composed. Col appeared as though he were caught between the realms of reality and nightmares. "Please,' he pled silently, 'how did this all come to be?"

Laternieux nodded and annotated, "It all started five years ago when one of my agents, a young man named Franz and close friends with Dian Rubens, met a mercenary who uncovered the foul plot to have the pagan gods slain headed by a wretch named Stephano. Together they formed an alliance against Stephano in the town of Lenos, where the devil had erected his throne. However this alliance had a mole among their ranks named Baron. They were betrayed, captured, tortured and eventually killed. Franz suffered the worst of all and I shan't even elude to the misery he was subjected to. The only one who was unscathed was the mercenary who, as a result of a personal congress between him and myself, murdered the foul monster Stephano and Baron who orchestrated the treachery against Franz and the others."

During this brief recess Col asked while fearing what he did not want to know but retroactively accepted, "Did this Stephano discover Mrs. Holo?"

Laternieux bowed his head with just enough remorse that did not betray his elegant poise. Hanna in response raised a hand to grasp her bosom while Col feigned courage.

Laternieux continued, "The mercenary joined the rangers shortly after and has been a faithful asset ever since. And for five years we believed the pagan gods were free from this treacherous scheme but unbeknownst to us all it had only receded back into the cracks from which it came so it could fester and boil over in a more lethal endeavor."

"Pray tell, how so?' said Col turning pale.

"That night we discovered that Stephano was only enacting at the behest of a superior. A tyrant among tyrants named Jurgen de Buhr who, after carful planning has struck again. His most recent attempt against your master and his wife is why your inn is burnt down with the owners removed from the city of Nyohirra and under the direct supervision of a handful of ranger operatives while this gets all sorted out."

"But how did this Jurgen even discover Mrs. Holo?" pressed Col. Certain stories; such as

"Through the eyes and ears he has established throughout the land. Their doings, such as a giant wolf in the sewers of Pazzio as seen by the cohorts of Medio trading, and in the fields outside of Ruvenhaigen as reported by Remerio had eventually reached the ears of Jurgen. And now that he has discovered her and her place of residence she, along with her husband and you two, are not safe."

Hanna shut her eyes and lowered her head.

"But why seek the blood of pagan gods?"

With uncanny coolness in that which he knew little of, the Count said, "I am not sure _monsieur. _Many have speculated that he is being payed in secret by the church to do so but my intuition suggests something far more sinister."

"Could you not call upon the city guard or another appropriate authority to fight such an evil man?"

"We cannot on at least two reasons; One, we have reason to believe a high ranking official in the city guard is on Jurgen's payroll, and two, should any of this come to light in the eyes of the dictating authority, the rangers and myself would be done for thus canceling any future good on behalf of the inhabitants of this land."

Col appeared to have lost his fortitude in the same manner as one would have had he been indentured in the bowels of a cavern until their bones lay amongst the crags.

The Count approached him and, after having affectionately rested a hand on his shoulder, encouraged, "Why don't you have a seat young _monsieur_ next to the _mademoiselle_ and I will have something prepared for you." then turned to exit.

Col, out of whatever courtesy his frenzied mind could offer, said, "No sir, we could not possibly…"

The Count motioned his silence with his hand as he departed, "I will have something prepared whether you desire it or not." his figure then became covered by the pavilion as he descended down the hall. Col sat down at the table opposite of the silent Hanna and in turn mimicked her example.

Twenty minutes passed and two servants dressed in scarlet robes entered, deposited platters of fine meats, cheeses and wines upon the table and departed without saying a word.

Hanna sampled the victuals while Col alas broke composure hovered his face over his dish and began to marinate his gammon with his tears.

Hanna arose to comfort the young man whom she entrusted under her care as if he were her own son. Resting his head within her cradling bosom the despaired youth sobbed with a subtle moan that carried the waves of his anguish from his heart to his voice, "Oh Hanna what are we to do? If I were admitted into the very paradise of God, despite all its luxuries, it would not console me from the grief I feel right now!"

Stroking his hair she finally spoke for the first time in that hour with the wisdom only tenure of life can give, "It is not within our power but to simply wait and see, for we are not equipped to deal with the elements at play."

"But how can we trust this man and organization who have admitted allegiance to a double life?"

"Have we any other choice?"

Col remained silent by which, after a few more moments, Hanna instructed the young man that it would be best if he were to eat. Roughly another half hour passed and the door to the main entrance could be heard opening through the muffled voice of the hallway just outside. They originally supposed it to be the Count if not for the vehemency of which it was swung ajar. The deep pantings of some unknown individual drunk with fatigue followed by the heavy foot steps of another man admitting the weary traveler could be heard instead of the cain rapping the floor.

Suddenly the light of the main hallway cut a rectangle into their room as the door flung open announcing the sight of a burly man clad in a scarlet robe presenting a weathered individual on the brink of collapse.

The scarlet spoke in a tone that struck Col and Hanna through the heart, "Do you have acquaintances with this man?"

Both examined his features and denied any association. Although his ruggedness could be a suitable disguise if they had.

"Should we know him?" asked Hanna standing in front of Col.

The scarlet replied, "He was found skulking around the city asking about Holo and Lawrence."

The tired man said with a gasp that gargled his throat, "I seek the Count Laternieux, I come bearing news regarding their situation."

The man in the scarlet robe pushed him through and forced him to sit upon the chair of which the sufferer near collapsed upon then held his sit in a tripod position.

"Stay here,' harshly spoke the scarlet then to Col and Hanna, 'keep an eye on him until I return."

He quickly quitted the room with jingles and jangles produced from under his robe indicating he had lethal armaments concealed on his person. Hanna took a more generous moment to examine the man whose face was covered by his shaggy hair that was blonde and disheveled.

Noticing his appearance had brought about many alarms and inquiries he said rather politely, "Forgive my appearance, I have traveled a great distance in little time to get here. Please good people tell me I am at my closest in seeking an audience with the Count Laternieux."

With a slight unwillingness to betray the trust already established but more inclined to delve into the aims of this mystery man, Hanna said, "Currently he dwells here."

The man clapped his hands together, "God be praised!" said he.

At that moment the door reopened and in walked the Count with the outline of the man in the scarlet robe overtaking his countenance from behind. Laternieux approached the fatigued individual with enough intrigue to draw him near but also with enough caution to stay reasonably at bay.

"You summoned me _Monsieur_?"

"Yes I have walked for the last two and a half days from Trappers Loop to find you."

"_Mon dieu_!' exacerbated the Count, 'That is quite a league. Who are you?"

Lifting his eyes to reveal his fairness the man replied, "My name is Edmund Whelzing and I was sent here by Fivel to give you these." He then produced his sack that bulged with a certain amount of heft. But as he extended his arm to give it to the Count it was intercepted by the scarlet who made the Count's safety his utmost priority.

The contents were vigorously examined before ownership was relinquished to Laternieux who said as he took it, "No need for this much security Mazarin, but it is appreciated."

Mazarin turned to Edmund and said, "He has been spilling your name all across Nyohirra, a foolish friend is just as dangerous as a deadly enemy."

"Forgiveness then my lord." pled Edmund unable to hold himself up then fell down upon his knees.

Laternieux gave him a passive waive of the hand then unloaded the sack upon the table of which a binder containing multiple documents and ledgers were produced upon the mantle of which he began to investigate. Hanna asked aloud, "I am sorry but we are ignorant of this Fivel you spoke of."

Mazarin answered with a tone of annoyance he displayed purposefully, "Fivel is an alias of the Alpha Ranger, a title I strongly feel the Count thinks too deserving for the man."

"Who is the Alpha Ranger?"

"My best man." replied the Count with his eyes still rifling through the files.

"That is still a question of debate." retorted Mazarin.

"But who is he?" pressed Hanna.

Laternieux recessed a moment to answer, "If you recall to my earlier narrative, the lone mercenary who befriended young Franz to hunt down Stephano. It is he of whom we speak and it is he who is in charge of Holo and Lawrence's protection."

"Has he no name?"

"No one under the sky knows it nor do I believe it will ever be learned."

"Neither has he a face." growled Mazarin, "for none have seen him without his ridiculous face mask and hood."

"Forgive him,' said the Count addressing both Col and Hanna, 'Mazarin has never admired a rival whose skill can surpass his."

In defense of his honor the ranger said, "Forgive me my lord but his methods I find are lacking in both honor and subtlety."

"Regardless,' dismissed the Count, 'Holo and Lawrence are in the most capable hands there is."

"Unfortunately,' panted Edmund who until up to this moment was forgotten about, 'the company I beheld when I last saw them was just _Fivel_ and Holo..."

A silence fell over the room like an ethereal shroud slowly drifting upon their heads.

Col showed such an expression of dread that should a lightning bolt have struck that very moment it would not have instilled greater terror.

"_Pardieu_,' asked the Count most cautiously, 'were there perchance at least three others among their company?"

"Angelo, Jabari and Matthias,' interjected Mazarin, 'the three you sent with the Alpha to escort Holo and Lawrence were named Angelo, Jabari and Matthias."

Edmund sighed, "Holo told me the morning they left town they were attacked by a great mob that claimed the lives of Angelo and Jabari. Matthias and Lawrence were taken hostage by the lackeys of Jurgen. From there Holo and the Alpha made a pact to unite their efforts in saving them from the clutches of this mad cultist."

Col collapsed on his chair and Hanna clutched her chest and uttered a cry as if all hope was lost and that the joy of being an employee of the inn was now an unrecoverable memory.

Laternieux bowed his head in reverence but Mazarin had loaded his tongue with a new jet of criticisms, "We can now add even more to the tally of good men who have perished under his watch while he continues unscathed.' then turning to Hanna and Col he added to their laments, "I am sorry but your host and hostess shall not be lingering in this world for much longer."

Laternieux slammed the pommel of his cane making a bolt of thunder.

Mazarin hastily turned to address he who emitted the clatter, "He esteems his life higher than anyone else's."

The Count was quick to retort, "The number of dead intentionally wrought by his hand far exceeds the number of dead who served underneath him."

"Oh yes, yes,' replied the ranger with full irritation, 'he is your prized one man army, yes I am aware."

Col suddenly lifted his head, "Excuse me.' all went silent while he stared at Edmund, 'why did you refer to this Jurgen as a cultist?"

Attention was once again reverted on the man who began shivering, "Because of what motivates him to hunt down the pagan gods."

"Which is?"

"They are disciples and worshippers of The Moon Hunting Bear who have determined every pagan god an enemy to their god and decreed them all worthy of death and actively pursue that goal."

At that very moment Col rushed to Hanna who had fainted and caught her before meeting the floor. Edmund arose to assist just as swiftly and began fanning her with his hand. Once beholding Col's pale complexion he informed to replant the seeds of hope, "Fear not for they had a strong bearing on where Jurgen had stolen Lawrence and Matthias away."

"Where were they last headed _Monsieur_?" asked the Count who observed and listened from afar.

"They had heard it from a subordinate of Jurgen himself that he was held up deep within Yoites."

"Holo's homeland?!" gasped Col unable to figure the conditions to have caused such a coincidence as such.

The gravity fell from the Count's face who slowly pulled his chin towards the ground while Mazarin looked on breathing discontent from his nostrils.

Edmund then asked of them with a stunning disapproval to their lack of chivalry, "Have you not a bed for her?"

Upon seeing that Hanna had yet to strike a vein of consciousness he directed them towards a small dormitory that housed only two beds. Edmund elected to carry Hanna without assistance and laid her upon the mattress then drew the sheets over her.

Upon doing so he found he had no more strength to spare and supported himself on the foot mantle. Col directed him to the opposite bed and offered, "Please sir, you must rest."

Edmund kindly rejected the offer, "Oh no young man I cannot impose..." then suddenly, with all strength sapped he succumbed to exertion and collapsed on the rug. Col drug and hoisted his lifeless limbs over to the free bed and left him to recuperate.

As he was returning to the main room he could perceive a quiet argument ensuing between the Count and Mazarin who exchanged harsh words in sharp whispers.

"It will forever be my reasoning that were they with me they would have been the farthest from danger!"

The Count replied agitated but still with gentlemanly fashion, "I believe you are too harsh and that you lack faith in the Alpha's abilities all things considering."

"I have no doubt he will succeed in bringing death to our enemies but he also brings death to his allies as well. Franz, Angelo, Jabari. Holo, Lawrence and Matthias will soon follow."

"Presumptuous conclusion I dare say."

"A prediction based on pattern and his ill regard for the well being of those at his side."

"'Ill regard?''repeated the Count wishing to defend the honor of a comrade, "Do not all rangers know the dangers of these campaigns? If any ill regard towards anyone is displayed it is each to their own being. It is the life of a soldier after all."

The voice of Mazarin became imbibed with melodrama, "Franz was no soldier."

"He knew the risks just as well."

A scoff resounded before footsteps could be heard pacing away from the Count's position as Mazarin most assuredly walked away in disbelief. Col listened to the silence that left a mechanical melancholy in the air.

Alas the Count's voice could be heard, "Mazarin, Do you know exactly why it was that Alpha killed Baron after questioning him?"

There was no immediate reply.

"Was it not obvious, he clearly sought to avenge the boy against the one who orchestrated his demise. He is an instrument of death best suited out there."

Mazarin with regretful pain in his voice, the only emotion he sought to withhold, said, "Then let me send for him if you desire him so much."

"Mazarin I sent for you specifically because of how desperately you are needed here. I put Alpha out in the field because of his lack of discretion. This town is on the brink of eruption over the excitement he caused the last few days. That young boy and dear lady are in much danger. You can protect them without so much as drawing your sword. Do not think for a moment I overlook such talent or am not sympathetic to you devotion to your brothers in arms. I need you to take care of the situation here and let Alpha handle the one out there."

At that moment Col realized he had been absent just long enough to potentially cause suspicion for eavesdropping and therefore entered while feigning obliviousness to what he had just overheard.

"Both of them are resting." said he without raising suspicion.

"Has Edmund explained himself more thoroughly?" asked Mazarin.

"No, I could not find out more of how he know Mrs. Holo or why he risked so much to deliver those to you." Col returned pointing towards the albums still sitting idle upon the table.

Laternieux, refocusing his mind upon what was delivered, began cycling through the documents again. That is when, to his excitement and dread he proclaimed, "_Mon Dieu_!"

"What is it?" asked Mazarin too curious to keep away.

"Why these are documents detailing the established order of Jurgen's empire! Expenses, associates, ledgers and more! If this information can be weaponized against this organization…"

"We can topple it." Col finished.


	2. Wolf and One Last Hope

**Chapter 1 **

**Wolf and One Last Hope**

In the deepest north there was a land of serene beauty that had much to show but had been seen by few. She was filled with mountains that scraped the heavens and descended into spacious valleys which were homes to great rivers flowing their essence into the heart of the motherland which was painted with immense trees towering like giants above the sod. A land that had short summers and long winters, a land of scenery so majestic it could sap the breathe from the lungs of man. The land of known as Yoites.

If the words of men could be spoken by these mountains they would reveal tales of unfathomable grandeur that would fill the possessor of the human spirit with wonder and amazement. The most famous they would tell, that is to say, the most recent in their memory, were those of the great wolves who during the age of animal spirits proudly dwelt upon these earthen thrones. And there were many tales of their prowess, their doings, their love of nature and even their contentions among other life. But the saddest memory these mountains had was the day a great enemy descended upon their land.

A titan of the living waged war against the animal spirits who was known in the breathe of legend as The Moon Hunting Bear. When she invaded the land of Yoites, many were killed, many had fled and the mountains suffered great wounds by her account. It was a swift and terrible crusade that had all but ended the days of glory for Yoites.

Yet there was another tale following the former that these old mountains would shudder to speak of. For the mountains soon learned that there are those far more capable of horrendous deeds in the form of man than of giant bear. Sitting on a pad of white by the banks where the Siakluk river flourish around the Ketchiwa mountain was a dilapidated mansion that appeared like a dark stain wresting the purity of innocence.

As to the nature of this habiliment it remained a mystery even to the great wolves, for those who know do not speak and those who speak do not know; and these mountains do not speak.

But we are not destined to remain ignorant on the matter for this evil place was being ransacked by four individuals who, for reasons of their own accord, had taken a savage interest to it.

First and foremost was the long departed native, Holo the Wise Wolf who recently made a return under most unfavorable circumstances. Then there were the recently acquainted mountaineers, Nikiski and his fiercely devoted second-in-command Agatha Mcdubland. Lastly, there was Holo's current companion; a man whom she entrusted her life to. The morbid, masked emissary of justice, The Ranger.

Each individual had his and her own interest in this mansion that, as is the way with partnership, is what united them. We will learn through their exchanges hereafter the finite details regarding the conditions of these two were united for the reader already familiar with Holo's story will most undoubtedly be wondering where was her love, Kraft Lawrence? Let us observe and discover.

Holo sat upon the bottom step of the grand stair case in the main hall and stared through the open door into the vast whiteness of her homeland. Her body trembled, her fingers digging into her own palms and her eyes glimmered with a tinge of red. She, despite her beauty and long life, appeared very miserable.

Agatha rounded the balcony, perceived the she wolf's state of woe and descended along the banister to console her. Coming to, she said in a voice intwined with the accent of sailors, "We still be looking lass, anything I can do for ye?"

Shaking her head then resting it against her hand she could only say, "Tell me where they have taken Lawrence and I shall be the first rescue him."

Sitting beside the grieving wolf, Agatha brushed her back with her hand, "I know it be hard lass, but ye needs faith that everything that can be done is gettin' done."

Holo raised her eyes up letting fall a few tears careen down her cheeks, "I have never felt so hopelessly tempted to give up in my whole life."

Agatha soothed her, "No, no, no, never give up, all is not lost. Ye know what Nikiski had been telling me while we searched?" Holo shook her head. "He said that Jurgen would have left us a body. Seeing how there is none it can only mean yer mate is alive and well."

Looking down at her hands that rested between her thighs, Holo huffed, "It is that all feels lost!"

Touching her knee the mountaineer went on, "But tis' not. There is still hope for a lead to get us our heading.' then pointing to Holo's stomach, 'and ye still got a wee one needin' her mother to be strong."

Holo placed a hand on her still flat stomach and sniffed up her sorrow, "Such a shame for this wise wolf to be comforted by humans.' then voiced a wondering inquiry, 'what makes you think it will be a girl?"

Agatha arose then presented to Holo her hand, "Call it intuition. I was mother once too ye know."

Holo took the hand and lifted with a pained expression. Agatha recounted that tale to her. She was referring to a babe she bore when forced to appease the appetites of men for money at a young age. Who shortly after the delivery had her baby taken away and her loins mutilated to prevent another conception. It was Nikiski who rescued her from that awful station those ten years ago and she was inseparable from him ever since. But what became of her child? She never knew.

Lifting herself up Holo asked with great respect on the topic, "Do you think of what became of your baby boy often?"

Agatha relinquished a slight gruff, "There has never been a single day I haven't wondered what become of him.' as they ascended the stairs Agatha stopped suddenly to turn and face Holo, 'I may be wonderin'part of the time, but I be worryin' all of the time. T'was not a fair port town he was birthed in."

Wishing to say no more they continued up the stairs to where the other two men afore mentioned tasked themselves with the uncovering of evidence. The first room they passed by they spotted a seasoned man with a long beard of black and pepper, a dark nit cap adorning his crown and sword secured about his waist. Agatha addressed him first, "Have ye found anything Nikiski?"

He somberly shook his head. The weight of Holo's depression could be felt by all in the room but she held her peace. Agatha looked around and wondered aloud, "So this is where Jurgen made port?"

Much could be said about a man by the contents of his lodgings and to Holo it both surprised and satisfied her anticipations at once. By the finely decorated room, countless albums, neatly arranged tea set and velvet drapes impeding the windows she could conclude beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jurgen De Buhr was an evil genius and elegant tyrant. And he could cover his tracks exceptionally well.

"It appears that way." answered Holo.

Agatha looked to Nikiski, who rarely spoke, interoperated his thoughts which she learned to decipher over the years and encouraged, "Keep looking, there must be something here."

Holo lingered a bit more, clung on to the decor of the abode then quitted like the silent wolf she was. She proceed down the hallway alone to unite with our final character yet to make his introduction. Sensing his presence in the next room over, which was the final one nearing the end of the hallway, she stepped into the frame but withheld entering fully.

Sitting in a chair he had pulled up in the middle of the office, with a book shelf to the left, fire place in front and desk to the right, was The Ranger. His true name was unknown due to his unrelenting discretion and his face was a mystery too on account of the mask and hood he was never seen without.

His back faced her but she could identify that his posture upheld his chin by his fist that was supported atop his knee. She could feel the steaming animosity boiling within his chest and knew all to well why.

She slowly approached him and though he did not move, she knew her presence was acknowledged. Looking around she noticed two identical busts on either end of fire mantle then asked with delicate implication, "So this was _his _office, was it not?"

The influx in her voice telegraphed the respect and sympathy she desired to brandish which Ranger responded with a near invisible nod of the head. His hardened eyes were locked on the hearth before him and he spoke with enough quietness to stay out of ear shot but with enough rage to rattle the demons of hell, "This is where _he _had been this entire time. And _he_ has fled my reach, yet again."

Holo erected her posture, nodded then walked away from the furnace of his emnity. As she crossed the under arch of the door frame she lightly collided with Agatha who wished to be updated on Ranger's progress.

"Let him be for a moment. He is in no mood to be seen by anyone." warned Holo.

Agatha peered in then inquired, "What be his deal?"

Holo shushed her abruptly then reprimanded, "The man who serves as Jurgen's body guard goes by the name Cyrus Aswadi."

The sailor woman raised an eyebrow near humorously, "Friend of yours?"

"Nay, but there is a history between them both." responded Holo.

Agatha began to assume the bad blood that was being implied and delved further into it, "Can ye say much? After all I think it be best if we know what we're up against."

Out of respect for the delicate history she had been made aware of, Holo gave this brief accounting, "Cyrus and the Alpha hailed from the same country in the far east. They both alleged to a clan of warrior with the most sacred tenants and brutal regiments. In fact Cyrus and he were considered adopted brothers. After many years of dissent a civil war tore their clan in two, Cyrus went one way he went the other."

Then pointing a finger towards Ranger she said with sternest, "He did not chose the winning side. He was brutally punished by Cyrus and a few others he once called brothers. They even went as far as brutalizing and killing his family in front of him as part of his torture. In the end he was the soul survivor of their treachery and made it his mission to bring every traitor to his country to justice."

Agatha appeared petrified, "I had no idea what he had tucked away in his heart."

Holo followed up, "This may have been the closest he has ever gotten to killing Cyrus for what he had done. And now he has vanished without a trace. And I believe he is exhausting every faucet of his discipline to remain in control of his emotions."

At this point Nikiski manifested himself behind them and, when they set their attention upon him, his head shook signifying nothing of note was uncovered. His eyes leaned over to the next room of which Holo opposed but ultimately was overruled and they entered upon Ranger who made no reply.

As they gathered around they hopelessly attempted to uncover any jot or lead they could use to mark the start of a trail. At this time Holo leaned against the book shelf, closed her eyes and gave herself up to complete and total darkness.

Suddenly her ears perked up and her eyes popped wide open. Her attention rapidly transfixed upon the book shelf she leaned against. '_Could it be?_' she thought to herself.

A spark of hope erupted from her throat, "I found something!"

Everyone turned rapidly towards Holo save Ranger who did so in a distilled manner. Putting her face closer to the shelves she sniffed, stepped away and set a finger on the middle mantle piece while declaring, "I smell dank air passing through there!"

Ranger bolted from his seat as if moved upon by a spring and began knocking against the various back panels until a hollow coo could be heard. He began flinging books from their foundations as a man possessed until alas coming across one that would not vacate by force. He attempted to pull away but it remained firmly seated in place.

"What is it?" asked Holo.

Ranger was quick to reply, "This is but a door knob, the lock is still in place."

Holo devised a plan, "Knock as you had done before."

Ranger obeyed and Holo listened. Her finger acted as guide as she trailed it along the wall with the wrapping while proclaiming, "I can hear where it is behind the wall."

Soon she graphed the invisible mechanism to it's exact release point to one of the busts upon the mantle. Ranger aggressively turned it one way then the next of which it shifted creating a loud thunk in the room.

Ranger pushed past everyone and returned to the stubborn book. He gave it a tug which lifted out on a hinge. The bookshelf eerily swung open revealing a dark and dreary chasm on the other end.

"Well I'll be damned…" mused Agatha.

They all stood before it as though it were a passageway to the underworld who all telepathically dared one another to see who would be the first to enter. Then without warning, Holo gasped and fled into the jaws of darkness. Ranger went in after her followed by the other two.

As soon as Ranger closed distance he reached out and grabbed her arm.

Holo nearly yelled in protest, "Lawrence may be down here!"

Cupping her mouth he pushed her against the wall to have her quickly silenced. Then putting a finger to his own mouth he said, "It may also be a trap."

He then drew his sword, a single edged and curved after the eastern make with a purple tassel dangling off the end pommel, held it at the ready and proceeded ahead taking the lead. They went only a half league further in, relying on Holo's night vision to accumulate their surroundings. She began to complain greatly of the stenches festering her nostrils shortly after.

Agatha followed up with a lantern she had recently lit. The further in they went the worse the smell became. Holo finally lamented, "What on earth is that scent?"

There was a pause that made her hairs stand on end as the other three knew the foul fragrance but became reluctant to educate her. Holding an arm to her nose she cast her gaze round about expecting someone to answer, "Anyone?"

Nikiski spoke for the first time that hour in a voice that was raspy and painful to operate, "A burned body…" then gave a few coughs that jolted his shoulders.

Agatha immediately went to console Holo who appeared as though her sanity was falling from her head and down her shoulders.

"That doesn't mean nothing." said she.

Angered and pained Holo moaned, "Let us just press on."

Further into the closet of skeletons they went.

Then, to both their dismay and curiosity, the first door kept away in the darkness had developed by the light. Agatha attempted to unlatch it but discovered it required a key to open.

Turning to Nikiski she asked, "Have ye a pick or something of the like?"

Ranger, overflowing with impatience, marched up to it, "Move." then thrusted his boot so hard into it it broke open sending busted fragments of wood and metal shooting through the air. Once the way was admissible the lantern shown in. The circle of light extended in and developed a blackened circle of charcoal on the stoney floor with a burned body strapped to a chair in the middle.

Holo threw her eyes away, "Please…no…"

Ranger stepped in to have a better look at the charred corpse then went back to Holo and almost demanded, "Holo, can you tell if this is Lawrence?"

Shaking her head away she withdrew from him in terror, "Please do not make me see it!"

He was about to enforce his will but Agatha intervened to allow the grieving wolf depart towards solitude then motioned that she would work with her. She found Holo on her knees leaning against a neighboring door that was not too far away.

"It cannot be him…!" she cried.

"If it helps, I don't think it is either, but ye know it's inevitable we'll have to find out." replied Agatha in hopes she could sway her to cooperate.

Holo's head fell between her shoulders, the strands of her luscious hair falling down to her lap like a waterfall, "Even if this solves the mystery of Lawrence, what of the man in need of justice? That I may never have."

Agatha folded her arms and leaned against the cold, hard wall, "I wish there was more for me to say other than we will do what we can to enact it."

Suddenly Holo shot her finger up and bade for a moment to listen, "Do you hear that?"

Putting her head to the door of which Holo rested Agatha replied, "I hear nothing."

"I can hear what sounds like breathing on the other side of this door." said Holo who immediately stood to face it, "Someone is here."

Agatha was about to call upon Ranger to knock it off it's hinges but Holo rolled up her sleeve, partook a few grains of wheat and held her fist opposite the door.

"What are ye playing at?"

"Stand clear." said Holo with beads of perspiration forming around her concentrated brow.

Her arm rapidly transformed into a massive wolf paw shooting forth destroying the door and providing an appropriate entryway. Agatha jumped, shielded her face and covered her ears in a single motion. Ranger and Nikiski ejected themselves from the other room to investigate the cause of the clatter.

Once the calamity had subsided and the dust was clearing Agatha beheld the ridiculous sight of this dainty girl attached to a monstrous animal appendage and said in total amazement, "I didn't know ye animal types could pick and chose which parts ye want to carry over."

Retracting the paw back to match her human body Holo replied while cracking her wrist, "Rarely we do, only when the occasion calls for it."

The two heroines proceeded inwards and Holo nearly collapsed from the foul stench of the room that housed all the odors of each inhabitant cruelly denied appropriate evacuation of their bowels. She would have made greater complaint against the stench that assaulted her brain if not for a rattle of metal invoked by scurrying figure in the corner.

Agatha raised her crossbow mechanically at the perpetrator out of the alarm but Holo, able to perceive the pathetic figure in full darkness, placed her hand atop the crossbow which lowered while exclaiming, "Wait, he is a prisoner!"

Agatha bade Holo to investigate of which she pulled from her side and confronted the individual who cried, covered his face and wept for mercy. Holo went to her knees and presented her hands up in a passive manner while reassuring, "No one here means you harm. Please do not be afraid."

The petrified individual, governed by dread, lowered his hands. Once his face was free from his hands covering it, Holo's became desperately still and devoid of every emotion save surprise and desperate hope.

"I…I know you…" said she with a whisper so full of weight it nearly shattered the foundations.

Agatha peered past Holo's shoulder and beheld a young boy of ten and six years of age to be the subject of this inhumane shackling. Despite the profundity of this situation the chemistry these two shared was remarkable enough to not go unnoticed.

The young man appeared to have an equal dither in thought upon seeing Holo of which Agatha alas broke her silence and asked with a pressing desire to be informed, "How is it ye two know each other?"

Without every breaking her line of sight from the boy's face Holo accounted their acquaintance, "The day we were first attacked by Jurgen's men, the same day I encountered the Alpha, we were followed by another troupe on our way to our inn. Under his direction we detoured to an ally to where he could dissolve the threat in secret. This boy was the last one standing of which he was spared and taken away by the city guard."

Agatha approached as an interrogator, "And apparently they didn't keep a good hold on him if he be here.' then addressed him directly, 'What's yer name boy?"

With a voice even too fearful for a confessional the lad whimpered, "Emilio."

Holo touched his shoulder, "Emilio why were you locked away?"

Sniffling away he replied, "I helped him…"

"Helped who?" pressed Holo, her voice straining.

"…Lawrence…"

Holo leapt forth seizing him by both shoulders of which the boy withdrew and pressed himself into the wall as a reactionary procedure to preserve himself.

"What has happened to him? Is he still alive? Emilio tell me!"

Agatha muscled her back while coaching, "His mind be too delicate for roughness. Let the lad have his room."

Holo obeyed but with excited reluctance she began all over again, "Emilio, tell me what has happened to Lawrence. Please I beg of you."

Emilio wiped away a few tears careering down his cheeks and said, "He was kept here…I would bring food and water to him and Matthias. We would have talks with one another and I told him too much information. Information he used to make an exchange."

"What kind of exchange?"

He straightened his neck while casting his gaze upwards, "Jurgen owes a debt to the tribunal; a debt that, if unpaid, will be paid with his blood. Lawrence offered to help him reclaim his fortune in exchange for his freedom and that of Matthias as well."

Agatha interjected when per chance came, "This tribunal ye speak of. Is it the guild he cast lots with?"

The boy nodded, "He is also their elected leader. When they discover what has happened they will pay every mercenary, bounty hunter and assassin their money can afford to hunt him down to satisfy the demands of failure."

"That is,' Holo's voice cut in, 'unless he can pay them back?"

"Exactly, that is why he has taken Lawrence with him so he can."

Agatha crooked her head, "Ye think this mate of yer's would actually help the bastard?"

Emilio answered for Holo for he had the greatest insight on the matter, "He will have no choice for Jurgen's most trusted enforcer will make sure of it."

"Cyrus Aswadi." said Holo with a loathing passion greater than a thousand burning suns.

Agatha then went on to ask, "So how's it ye were confined to this lil' pit o hell?"

Emilio answered but with greater indignation, "In order for Lawrence to succeed he needed access to Jurgen's black ledgers."

"Details to his illegitimate dealings I assume?"

The boy nodded and continued, "Jurgen was reluctant at first but he had an idea. He wanted Lawrence's help but he also wanted to punish the one who fed him the information regarding his status in the first place."

"I don't like where this be headin'." came the uneasy tone of Agatha.

Emilio creased his eyebrows and set them on the corner, "Another exchange was made. My freedom for the black ledgers. Jurgen knew Lawrence would be of no use unless he had access to them, so he proposed another trade one that ultimately had me locked up in here while he now has full access to all of Jurgen's dealings."

Holo came out of her silent hysteria and asked with unsettling sternest, "I see you are shackled and bolted to the wall. I can only assume the horrors of this asylum we stand in. However you also have stated that Lawrence was once here as well, so tell me; how was he treated? Was he tortured?"

He looked away then back then opened his mouth to answer but Holo quickly corrected any deceitful attempt, "My ears can detect lies so do not dare!"

With the anger subsided Emilio could only hold himself low while looking into her eyes and chokingly said, "I'm sorry…"

Holo's eyes and ears widened in tandem with her blood flushing from her face who then arose, gazed down upon him then turned and exited without saying a word.

Agatha let the spirit lingering after Holo's departure dissipate on it's own due time then kneeled beside Emilio while producing a lock pick.

"Ye won't try anything foolish if I turn ye loose will ye?" she asked.

While she listened for the pins clicking he said, "No Will you try anything once I'm free?"

Agatha unfastened his irons and let the cuffs fall from his wrists then assisted hoisting him up, "Hush now young one,' she reassured, 'I don't think any of our crew be seekin' ye harm."

As they proceeded to exit Agatha asked regarding the burned body, "So that poor soul burnt to a crisp, he ain't Lawrence then?"

"No his name was Eduardo, a leader of the mercenary group who failed Lord De Buhr; Las Manos Negros."

Agatha sighed with immense concern, "I take it Jurgen is not one for second chances."

"No…" he moaned then took the corner and was soon met with a nasty sight the nearly destroyed all established trust.

He came face to face with Ranger who, once he saw the boy, angled his eyes furiously, drew his sword and advanced upon him, "You!"

Emilio's strength surged throughout all limbs in self preservation who broke free from Agatha and retreated at a faltering pace. Nikiski attempted to seize Ranger by the cuff but failed while Agatha provided herself as a barrier between the two but was ultimately outdone.

"Whoa there! Slow your row!" begged Agatha following ore.

Ranger nearly had the boy in his clutches, "What did I say if I saw you again? And you would not heed my warning!"

Emilio began pleading for his life while he scrunched into the wall, "You said no one would seek me harm and yet you're with him!?"

A ferocious growl overpowered the hostile air as Holo suddenly bolted between the two and warned of her intentions with her fangs. Had it not been her who intervened, Ranger would not of stilled his fury.

"Foolish man!' she bellowed, 'We have spent hours rummaging this place for a lead and now that we have found one you seek to destroy it?!"

Had anyone else stood in his way, even possessing greater stature than she, Ranger would have exercised force to remove them from his path. But pray tell, the worthiness he found within her prevented him from making any recourse.

Keeping her hands squared against him Holo said with agitation but with great sympathy to his motive, "I understand the subversions of our expectations after so much toil and bloodshed that has left us all very testy! However this boy, despite him being in league with our enemy, is the last one to have seen Lawrence alive. Therefore this makes him all we have."

Ranger straightened his posture diminishing the one born out of hostility and said coolly, "Be wary that in the heating of your enemies you do not cool your allies." then retreated enough steps to bring Emilio's heart at ease.

Holo gave a simple huff and issued a warning in the like, "Be wary that in the slaying of your enemies your allies go unwounded."

She faced Emilio while assisting him up then demanded the way be cleared for him to be escorted upstairs under the safety of her supervision. Once situated in the office of Cyrus, Holo entrusted him upon a chair then drew up another so she may sit opposite.

"Now tell me.' said she, 'Do you know where Lawrence is?"

Emilio slumped his head, "All I know is that they departed by boat last night but this river has many veins and branches. To the exact location I don't know, I was locked up before that could be divulged."

Holo pondered while avoiding the allowance of her emotions to best the conflict, "Where and when did you see him last?"

Emilio stood and admitted the way with an extension of his hand, "It was this room over here two days ago."

They exited the office and soon abided in a modest study of no extreme significance for it belonged neither to the master or the enforcer. Holo stood in the middle casting her eyes about the monotonous room while ultimately feeling compelled to remain, "What was he doing in here?"

"This is where he was brought to study Jurgen's finances,' then with a pang of fear he said, 'and it was here he decided, my life for the black ledgers."

The boy then caught a subtle flex of her ears, "Why would Jurgen leave you alive in the dungeon and not have you killed before he fled?"

Rubbing the back of his neck he responded with inquisitive guesses at best, "I cannot say perhaps he either forgot or wanted me to suffer the pains of starvation, isolation and madness before I died."

"Well whatever the reason,' resounded Holo, 'this mistake will ultimately lead to his undoing."

She then pointed to a lounge chair near a book shelf and asked, "Did Lawrence sit here oft?"

Emilio rattled his head, "He usually sat at the desk but he did relax there a few times."

Holo picked up a couch pillow, gave it a deep sniff and moaned, "His scent, his precious scent, I can smell it on here. Oh how I wish to have my head nestled upon the bosom that produces it again!"

Emilio drooped his head from the forbearance of melancholy but said nothing.

Hugging the pillow deeply into her breasts she closed her eyes and swayed in place as if imagining to dance with her other half. Emilio noticed her brows crease in a way unnatural to the mood she strove for. Her eyes opened and set them on the book shelf, "Odd. I can smell his musk coming from over here as well."

Putting her petite snout along the ledges that upheld the countless books and albums she sniffed around until stopping where the odor was at it's strongest. Pulling the target album free by the spine she said to herself, "He could not have possibly…"

Emilio, standing idle for the season, inquired, "What is it exactly you are smelling?"

Realizing his human ignorance she informed, "You see what I smell on the pillow is a casual scent which is caused by a simple lounging around. But here it is much more poignant as if he lathered something in his pits and tucked it away."

"Maybe he wanted you to find it."

Lightning struck Holo's brain who spared not single moment longer in idleness and rummaged through the pages until coming across a scrap held by the crease of the binding. As soon as she identified it she plucked it up and began examining.

Confused, all she could say in it's regards was this, "It is definitely his hand writing but all it says is S-W 206."

Emilio enclosed her space to see it then said aloud once he deciphered it's meaning, "I think he is referring to the encyclopedia and page numbers in those sections."

Holo dropped the book and encroached upon him, "Where is it!"

Stepping back with his hands shielding himself from her irate fury he looked at the top shelf and found the said encyclopedia in pristine order. He ran his finger along stopping only on S and W withdrawing each on both accounts. Holo plucked one and feverishly flipped over to page 206. From there all she found were multiple underscores under assorted letters that appeared random. Holo became excessively confused in her frantic mind and said aloud, "I do not understand. They are underlined letters in every other paragraph."

Emilio examined it then said with refined ingenuity, "It's a message.' then turned, took up a quill and laid before him a sheet of parchment and sat the desk. He then instructed of her, 'Read each letter to me in the order in which they appear. I think those untouched paragraphs marks the end of a word."

Holo scanned and began reading off letter by letter.

Eventually, after much recitation, the script revealed Lawrence's secret message as this.

_Evgeny Ovetchkin - Nabakov Trading of Cross Iron_

_Gustav Bihari- Starboard Emporium of Dehlmare_

_Ruslan Ybarra - Debau Company of Lesko_

_Paavali Rajinak- Eastern connection and company of Talhari_

_Stephano Aldereci - Quatrini Loans and Services of Lenos_

_Father Benedetto Michilini- Church of Lamtra ext. of Ruvenhaigen._

Holo peered over and exclaimed before the last dot of ink could dry, "I recognize one of these names! Evgeny Ovetchkin of Cross Iron. The Ranger and I brought him to ruin when there."

Emilio nodded with some disdain, "Yes I heard, and the master was not happy."

Holo, realizing that a victory on her account was defeat on his quickly appropriated her tone, "Yes forgive us, anyway, these men are close associates to your master Jurgen yes?"

Emilio leaned back, folded his arms and appeared as though stricken with fear, "It is the names and associations of every man a part of the tribunal. They are cunning, powerful and dangerous. They are the only force on earth to have caused Jurgen to flee."

"Where could he have gone for refuge in the meantime?"

The boy drooped his shoulders in despair, "There are things he would not even let his closest servants know. I don't even think Cyrus is aware of his contingency plans."

Holo gave a hopeless nod then re examined the note left behind by her fleeted spouse, "SW, perhaps it means southwest?"

She fanned it against her cheek then noticed there was additional script on the backside.

"I and H, 982."

They betook the albums of the declared signature and found an identical code which was deciphered in the same manner that read, "Pyrite crash." said Emilio out loud, "What could that mean?"

Holo took the list of the tribunal then down at the other script held her mouth and said, "He wants us crash their market!"

Emilio shifted in his chair, "I don't follow."

Holo quickly recounted, "Five years ago when Lawrence and I were still courting we stopped in the town called Kumersun. There we met a young merchant named Amarti who sought my hand in marriage and offered to pay the debt I owed Lawrence at the time. During the festival there was an unusual buzz surrounding a stone called pyrite which soon exploded into a commodity of high demand. Both Lawrence and Amarti saw it as a means to make profit. Lawrence had an idea and that was to convince Amarti to buy large amounts of it on credit using almost all his net worth and then sell it at a precise moment to make the profit."

Emilio dinted his brows and appeared stunned, "He spent his net worth on a product using credit? Doesn't he know how dangerous that is; especially if the market of said product crashes before he sells?"

Holo smiled and waived her finger towards him, "Exactly. Lawrence and I bought up as much pyrite as we could and once the market could not get any higher we both sold bringing it down in a fell swoop."

"And leaving this Amarti fellow bankrupt." said Emilio being rather enthralled by the deviousness of the ordeal.

Holo gave off a devilish grin, "It was a great victory to see that whelp pay what he owed us and be left with nothing to show for it."

Emilio took note of how she portrayed herself, "It sounds there is more chemistry to this story than a duel among merchants."

Holo waived him down, "There is and perhaps I shall tell you one day but for now I believe I know…nay I definitely know to what Lawrence is alluring to here. Lawrence is suggesting we bring the tribunal to ruin."

Emilio leapt from his seat, "Are you insane? But how?"

"Find what each of these men and their establishments hold a market in then destroy it leaving them with nothing as we did Amarti."

"Have you any idea how powerful the tribunal is?"

Holo folded her arms and erected herself in the boost of cunning confidence, "Aye, but I am Holo the Wise Wolf and am powerful as well,' then motioning her head over, 'and so is the masked man I travel with."

"He is but one swordsman." mewled the lad, "You make it sound he could stand down an army."

Holo remained eerily expressionless.

The boy attuned his rationale to her attitude, "You compose yourself as if he is on parr with the gods."

Holo did not forfeit her demeanor.

"That is impossible." said Emilio reinforcing his opinion on the man.

Holo alas broke her peace, "How long have you lived here in Yoites?"

"Most my life. I became an apprentice of Jurgen's at a very young age."

Nodding Holo went on to inquire, "Are you familiar with the old legends of the Sawatii and Kahotoe tribes who live up here?"

"Yes, I have heard many."

With complete petrifying stillness she lowered her voice and asked, "Have you heard of the legend of Chugiak the Shadow Demon?"

Emilio attempted to laugh it off, "You can't be serious. A dark warrior with red eyes possessing strength capable enough to slay the gods of old?"

Holo's stillness affirmed all that he questioned.

"No,' backed away the frightened lad, 'no, he's just a myth."

"Some myths are real."  
"How is that possible, where did he come from, how old is he?"

Holo tilted her head some, "To his knowledge he has walked the earth for over a thousand years and has come from an ancient land to the far east. There were many like him at one point but a vile civil dispute had all but eradicated their numbers. As far as I know, only two dwell upon this land, him, and Jurgen's second in command."

"Master Cyrus?" exacerbated the boy, "Master Cyrus is of the same clan?"

"Does that surprise you?"

Pacing about and waiving his hands as if to stave off madness the boy eventually took sit upon the sofa and relinquished his denial, "In many ways I suppose not. His training methods in combat were far from modern."

"But know this,' said Holo, the boy's eyes lifted, 'you are the child of our mortal enemies. You are a disciple of the moon hunting bear, the bane of my homeland, and an underling of the Ranger's most longtime rival, Cyrus Aswadi. Your life has been spared by us, and aid us you can, but know that the scrutiny you will face in this party shall be no more accommodating then the prison of which you were liberated. Do you understand?"

Emilio nodded and withheld further questions. Flaunting the notes Holo said, "Let us reunite with the others and tell them what we have found."

_II _

_Simple incompétence or cunning genius?_

Within the city of Nyohirra, not too afar off from the rubbled remains of The Spice and Wolf Inn and Bathhouse, say two blocks, was a modest hostelry. Sitting at the tables outside was one man already well mellowed in the wine as it were. Upon consuming every last drop of the bottle set before him he desired to court another, therefore he called for another rather rudely.

When the waiter presented a new one he wisely attempted to only fill his cup and depart with it but the drunk, identifying the waiter's plan after one sip, slammed his goblet down and demanded, "Leave the bottle!" The server left it at the behest of the patron, returned to the cantina while wishing never to step outside again so long as he was there.

Yet approaching from the distance was a high ranking official seeking an audience with the drunkard who, once standing near enough to the table, dropped a leather bound envelope upon the mantle and called with a tone as cold as ice, "Lieutenant Dorian."

Casting his glazed eyes upward upon the man who called upon him he replied with the same tone of rudeness he took no care to conceal, "It's just Lucas Dorian now, since the bastards demoted me."

Taking sit before him the stranger replied with equal callous, "Oh don't take it so harshly, besides you were only placed on administrative leave…without pay."

Wincing his eyes while struggling to keep his head stable the former lieutenant asked, "I'm sorry, but who in the nine hells are you?"

The officiate, a bald man with a cleft chin, introduced himself with the finality of his calling, "Stephen Ziccardi,' then producing a parchment from his tunic, opened and presented it said, 'I am with the city guard's internal affairs and have been assigned by Chief Reinhart to investigate a few incidents that had occurred last week."

Ziccardi procured from his breast pocket a document and presented it to Lucas. It was an official order from the chief to investigate a series of misconducts towards a sergeant under his command and a the death of a subordinate, all finalized by the official seal of the city guard.

Dorian remained laxative and unfazed, "Doesn't ring a bell." then burned his gullet with the dregs of strong wine.

Unimpressed though hardly surprised at his lack of cooperation, Ziccardi recounted the details with perfect clarity, "You mean you cannot recall that last week: One Sergeant Philip Bourgeois was at the helm of an investigation involving multiple accounts of murder, two inn keepers suspected to be targets of foul play, attempted murder of these inn keepers by means of arson which claimed their inn by which Bourgeois had them placed under protective custody (an order you reversed mind you) then the disappearances of these two residents. There's also the allegations that; two of our finest were moles for a crime syndicate, a dead private and lastly,' he leaned forward, 'a charge of attempted murder of your sergeant against, who is now missing and presumed dead."

Dorian remained cool but his agitation was seen surfacing through his eyes. He then rubbed his lips and grunted.

"Does any of that ring a bell?" furtively asked Ziccardi.

"Well now that you put it that way, I might know a thing or too." replied Lucas with a shrugging droop of the head while chuckling to himself.

Loathing the idea of letting Lucas see his display of carelessness test the nerves of his interrogator Ziccardi remained professionally composed and started with, "Let's start at least with the beginning of it all. Bourgeois began doubling, and at times tripling, the patrols of those under his command. Why was this?"

"How should I know? He was deranged." said Dorian with an almost a musical tune then laughed to himself.

"Reports say he was suspicious of murderous activity happening outside the city that was getting closer so he doubled the guard to prevent if not apprehend the culprits responsible."

Whistling and not giving a toss, Dorian replied as he swayed in his seat, "Sure that is why in his mind, but like I said, 'deranged.'"

"Really? So you had no reason to believe this activity outside the city warranted some reinforcement of the guard?" Lucas nodded and smiled

"Even when a dead body was discovered outside the apartments?" Ziccardi challenged.

Some foul charm fell from his face, "Well…perhaps not completely deranged."

Moving right along the internal affairs officer said, "Now, there was reason to believe that the two owners of the inn that had burned down, Kraft Lawrence and his wife Holo Lawrence, were the targets of the orchestrators of these viscous murders."

"Don't know why my sergeant would draw that connection."

"Maybe it was because the dead body I mentioned had a torn invitation on him, one that was for the inn's grand opening and surprise baby shower."

"Oh yeah…" Dorian muttered whilst raising his goblet to his lips.

"Now reports indicated that there were two factions at play, The Safeguard Association and Wolf Trading, what can you tell me about these groups?"

"Not much, I'm a man of law, not of trade."

"So when at least ten members of Wolf Trading were found slaughtered in the warehouse by the docks and there was confirmation that they were rivals of The Safeguard Association and said assets of this Association were reported to have been within the city and you were on scene of were this slaughter that took place, you can't tell me more than this?"

Rocking away his care the drunken wretch scoffed, "Sounds like you've done all the heavy lifting for me."

"I'm only reciting the case notes as issued by others. I came in good faith that the lieutenant in command would have delved deeper into this, but that faith was misplaced it seems."

Rolling his wrist to move things along Dorian inquired with a hatred to the scrutiny he was being subjected to, "Have you anything else for me?"

Looking further down his study Ziccardi mentioned, "Don't worry I'll be getting to the real reason I'm questioning you."

"Maybe there is a God in heaven." sighed Dorian in ill natured relief.

Refusing to satisfy his rudeness the official said, "The night the Spice and Wolf inn burned down, witnesses stated they saw the arson wearing a tunic of the city guard indicating a malefactor within our own ranks. Can you account for all of your men that night?"

"No sir I can't."  
"Can you at least account for yourself that night?"

Leaning back and for the first time appearing genuinely offended Dorian said, "What, you think I did it?"

Ziccardi pushed out his lower lip, "Well, I'm shaking every tree to see what falls out."

In a fit of rage the drunkard sat forward with his finger aggressively aimed upon his interrogator, "Listen, why don't you ask _Bogey! _He's the deranged fool who sent the inn keepers off with the so called Safeguard Association so they wouldn't taste the axe and he attacked me in my own quarters when his delusions of grander all went to hell!"

The closest thing resembling a smile crossed the lips of Ziccardi, "I'm glad you brought that up because that leads me right into the next topic. So obviously there was an attempt being made on the lives of Holo and Kraft who-"

Dorian interjected, "He goes by Lawrence for business."

"So you do know them?"

Dorian seemed to be biting his tongue.

"As I was saying; earlier reports indicated they were wanted dead for their inn and bathhouse but according to a multiple statements, apparently this Holo is a Kenrou?" then lifted his eyes towards Lucas to validate his silence.

Dorian shrugged as if to state he knew nothing of the phenomenon.

"The great wolves of the north,' encouraged an unconvinced Ziccardi, 'worshipped as gods by the pagans. Mythos says they can take the form of humans with the exceptions of their ears and tail which many townsfolk claimed to have seen Mrs. Lawrence having that night the inn burned before they disappeared."

"Hmph, she wore too many clothes for me to see ears and tail if she had them,' said Dorian who made a lecherous remark as he lifted his cup, 'I would have preferred her to be wearing nothing personally."

Ziccardi hardened a scowl that adorned his brow, "Yes Lucas, I'm more than aware of your personal interests. Both on and off the clock."

Slamming his mug on the table making the brew to pop up and back he declared, "Then you know I'm a man with little patience!"

"Can you tell me why Bourgeois attacked you in your quarters that night?"

"He was ranting about the death of Pvt. Abruzzio who apparently either committed suicide or was slain by his deranged sergeant. I would have cut my own throat too if I had to serve under him."

Ziccardi was beginning to wane his professionalism, "Abruzzio was confronted by Bourgeois that night because he suspected him to be one of the moles."

A pshaw escaped his lips, "Who's there be a mole for in this neck of the woods?"

"Does the name Jurgen de Buhr mean anything to you?"

"Should it?"

"Apparently this man has been running a crime syndicate that leaks information and money from a plethora of sources, including our own. It appears he has it in for the pagan gods of old and has put a hit on Holo's head for it. Abruzzio was one of his men who aided in the attempts against the inn keepers and eventually his guilty conscience drove him to madness when confronted by Bourgeois and it ended in blood that night in the church."

Throwing his hands up in the epitome of frustration Dorian yelled, "You're theories are just as delusional as _Bogey's_! What are these reports you keep laying on my ear?"

Ziccardi slammed his palms on the table, "They're not theories they're sworn statements from Corporals Kovalsky and Lydford and Private Samson and at least a dozen private citizens. Finally we have the testimony of one Sister Fridrika, a nun who was in the church that night and heard Abruzzio confess his loyalties to this Jurgen and his motives before he died! And at the center of it all is you, the laziest and most irresponsible man to have ever worn the uniform and even less deserving of his rank, who let this all slip under his nose. Or perhaps insured this Jurgen got his way maybe?"

Dorian shook his head, "What are you getting at?"

"Well I do in fact have a theory. I think you intentionally stalled further investigations because you wanted Holo dead as much as Jurgen. I think you were the one who burned the inn down that night because I think you are Jurgen's other agent in the city guard and this nonchalant attitude is just a front to keep suspicions of foul play low. And this is why your sergeant was on to you and you almost killed him to keep him quiet."

Dorian seemed to find this all rather dull and said, "It's a fascinating tale you've constructed there constable, but you seem be lacking proof! All you have are theories and nothing concrete to suggest me as suspect. Bourgeois disappeared after I defended myself from his attempt on my life and your precious corporals Kovalsky and Lydford, along with Samson are trying to track him down and have been gone for a week which means you have no witnesses! Just hearsay!" then to make a grand antic of things waived his hands with bravado which in turn cast his wine bottle off with a single swipe.

Frowning at the shattered vessel that now interred wine with stone he accused pitifully, "Now look, you've made me lose my lunch."

He looked further down the street and found two harlots making their rounds and changed appetites. Seeing him ready to leave Ziccardi asked pressingly, "I hope you're planning to stay in town, sure would hate to have to track you down too."

Acknowledging the women as he arose he said, "I'm sure I can find a thing or two worth my time to convince me to linger a little while longer."

He strode past Ziccardi, approached and gave salutations to the working girls and departed with his arms draped over their shoulders.

"Fear not ladies, I am just drunk enough to not have to remember your names." he said aloud.

They giggled and cooed ever while the knives of Ziccardi's gaze pierced Dorian's back.

_III_

_A few more recruits_

The post noon sun descended upon the Kahotoe village that was still in the very early stages of recovery. The dead had yet to be completely buried and the means to repair their damaged structures was scarcely under way. Overseeing the activities were the people's most decorated citizens, Captain Naluk, who had just finished laying his father to rest and the last of the greate wolves living in Yoites, Nazani the god of healing, who was given the painful task of parting with his son, Talkeetna who was mourned greatly by his twin sister Soldatna.

Both Naluk and Nazani were the first to spot the oncoming of Holo's wolf form barreling through the valley and coming to rest at the foot of the village. She went prone so that Nikiski and Agatha could disembark from off her back followed by Ranger who only agreed to take Emilio on the condition he was bound and under his supervision at all times.

The first to approach them were the eye patch dawning Jethro and the two medical personnel of the doomed expedition, Doc and his assistant Ottis. As Holo was reverting back to human form Jethro approached Agatha absolutely bewildered, "What happened, is this boy Lawrence?"

The woman he questioned motioned for him to quiet down, "Shh, shhh. Gather what remains of the expedition and we will explain everything."

Shortly after, the twenty or so who survived the expedition of the far north and the great battle between the Kahotoe and Sawatii tribes the day prior had amassed together in a single hut and from there Agatha had explained what occurred in the mansion.

The most who seemed the most dejected of the group were Jethro, Doc and Ottis. But through it all the only question was, "So what happens now?"

Nikiski stood by and gave a specific look to Agatha who interoperated on his behalf, "Well gents. After this battle between these native tribes there will be no more expeditions to keep yer lands safe. Nikiski and I will move on and suggest ye do the same."

There was a disapproving complaint among the masses with one voice saying above all the chatter, "What about work, who will hire mercenaries up here now?" and another said after a cheer in support of that inquiry, "Are we getting paid for this though?"

A lot of aggressive voices flooded the chasm shortly after. Agatha motioned their silence down a few decibels, "Yes you will be gettin' a fancy dabloon for yer efforts seeing how many of yer fellow cohorts have died meaning extra shares get divvied out equally. But this is good-bye. We be fixin' on a new horizon."

"Can he do that?" came a loud whisper.

Jethro answered aloud, "He's a bounty hunter by trade, when the job's done he can come and go as he pleases."

Agatha put her hands upon her hips and twerked her head towards the silent man they questioned, "And I stay with him."

The rumble of scornful lips filled the air like a cloud above their heads which at this point she and Nikiski quitted the hut together. As they were walking down the muddy and snowy pathways past the native people a familiar voice called out specifically for Agatha who turned to find Jethro quickly chasing after them.

"What more can we do ye for Mr. McKinley?"

"I'd like to come with you."

Chortling slightly while shaking her head she said, "Don't be daft. Go and live yer life."

Advancing close enough towards them they stopped on his behalf, "I don't have a life beyond this. My wife and children are dead, what's there to go back to?"

Agatha put a hand on his shoulder, "I don't want ye to think ye are obligated to tag along cause ye have nothing else to lose."

Jethro looked around as though trying to find some intelligible way to explain his motive without resorting to grief, but alas it overpowered him and with a gasp and a tear he explained, "Please, I failed my family. With helping you two…helping Holo…please let me have this opportunity to do something good."

Agatha let out a small cough of disbelief then looked to the idling Nikiski, who lifted his eyebrows encouragingly.

Agatha replied knowing exactly what he implied, "Yes I know an extra blade won't hurt but…' she mulled a moment and pondered another then finally yielded, 'Fine come along then, but I suppose ye be knowing just what on earth is going on."

The three then obliged themselves to another yurt where Emilio was held captive by Ranger who was standing in the darkest corner with his arms folded and Holo who stood before the boy. The atmosphere of which they entered upon was heavy, as if an argument had ensued then gone deathly quiet upon their arrival.

Holo noticed the extra addition to the troupe and inquired with a voice shaking to stay calm, "Jethro…you will come with us?"

"Indeed I am, so what's our next move then?"

Anxiously threading her fingers through her hair Holo said, "Well, Emilio, myself and my partner here have been having a discussion on many things. Such as possible options along the way to Jurgen."

"And these options are?"

Holo looked to Emilio who then began to speak, "Well we have…"

Ranger stepped forth, "Quiet.' he growled under his breath then took over, "Lawrence left behind a coded message of members of the tribunal, the names of their establishments and the towns from which they operate. It was also his suggestion we dismantle them along the way by whatever means necessary."

Holo quickly took her stand, "Jurgen is simply one head of many, remove him and another qualified shall take his place."

"Mind you, we will be having a child of the enemy along with us should we pursue this course." arrogated Ranger in reference to Emilio.

"Who can also be a tremendous asset." Holo defended.

"Or a tool of your undoing." the masked man argued back.

Emilio looked as though where about to speak but durst not.

Agatha stopped them both for Nikiski had already a plan established, "The first place we be dropping anchor is where the Raven has gone to roost."

Both Holo and Ranger respectably broke off their engagement and brought themselves on the same plane. Only Jethro and Emilio needed to be informed upon the matter.

"I'm sorry but who?" asked McKinley.

Agatha quickly explained, "Yer boss here was once a member of secret guild called the rangers of which this masked one works for. Back in the day Nikiski and two others tried to kill the scalawag Jurgen but one was killed, Nikiski was injured to where he lost his voice and the other left and pursued his own course. The trio Nikiski was apart were called the warbirds each being named after a bird the feather, the late leader Eagle, the crippled Hawk…"

"And the vanished Raven." said Jethro concluding this tale.

"But not vanished,' said Agatha turning to Nikiski, 'he seems to know where he be."

"But where could he have gone during these years?"

Nikiski spoke but only with a hoarse rasp of a voice, "Southeast." then covered his mouth as he began to cough.

Ranger leaned in on the conversation with a hint of offense to his own talent, "Exactly what is the value of this one man aside from knowing where one coward has gone to hide?"

Nikiski wanted to answer but was overcome with irritation in his throat and obligated the task to Agatha, "Because no one knows the tribunal better than Raven. He'd be the best man in helping all of us bring this ivory tower down, savvy?"

"You think he could really better our chances?" came Ranger's condescending inquiry with a dash of ridicule.

"It is not a game of chance,' said Holo to reaffirm the reality of their odds, "tis a game of strategy. And if we can recruit a man who can provide us the best strategy then we must take it. What other choice is there?"

Emilio spoke up quickly, "I can help."

The best way to describe Ranger's response to his outburst was akin to a child with matches near an explosive substance. He quickly turned around and repeated the last word spoken to him, "Quiet!"

Holo intervened, "He has helped so far!"

Ranger raised his finger towards her but suddenly stopped, put his hand behind his back then addressed her, "This boy worships the creature that destroyed your kind and is a member of the cult dedicated to finishing off your kind in these latter days."

"Yes but I am Holo the Wise Wolf and an excellent judge of character. I feel he owes some debt to the ones who just saved him from an awful fate."

"Very well but he will not go, do or say anything without my being there."

"Very well."

Holo seemed strangely compliant which slightly astonished him inwardly.

Jethro alas voiced a complaint that immediately became the primary concern, "What shall we do for food and transport? We have no horses, no wagons and no money. Aside from this we will need some kind of alibi, for this tribunal will surely be made wary of armed travelers creeping their way towards them."

"And I can only carry so many of you on my back and that is not including supplies." threw in Holo.

Agatha tapped her chin then said, "Let's have a word with Naluk, I'm sure the Kahotoe people might have something we can use."

"But what of money?" asked Jethro.

Holo again opted to cover that front, "I have been married to and known a merchant for a long time and have already put the skills acquired from him to good use already. I can handle the finances, make the investments and ultimately ensure we are well funded. We could also use this as front to pose as a merchant band traveling thus lowering suspicion from onlookers."

The plan seemed agreeable and Agatha stated, "We can return to Trapper's Loop with the others and collect on the bounty we fulfilled here. But I fear it may not be enough to support us all lass."

"We can trade wares." encouraged Holo.

"We can steal from bandits and frauds." said Ranger rather darkly which upset the mood entirely.

Addressing that vociferation Jethro said, "You would suggest becoming the same lowlife as our enemies?"

"I suggest we return the same justice upon their heads as they do upon the innocent." returned Ranger with a hatred to what he had inadvertently been compared to.

"Let's worry about it later,' Interrupted Agatha, 'for now, time be not on our side. Dally less act more I say."

"Agreed." said Holo.

Suddenly there was knock at the door with entrance of two people before permission was granted. It was Doc and Ottis which caught each of them by surprise.

"What be your reasoning to intrude upon this meeting?" asked Agatha with an interrogative air.

"Well we came to talk, then overheard everything just outside and figured you might need some qualified gentlemen to stitch you up should you come apart along the way." said Doc.

Nikiski lifted and rolled his eyes with a sigh while Agatha translated, "Might as well, I suppose."

"Hmm.' seethed Ranger, 'More souls to look after?"

Agatha pointed to Emilio then said to the culprit of that remark, "How 'bout ye concern yourself with being the boy's warden, eh?"

Ranger tightened his fist making a few knuckles crack but said nothing.

They all adjourned from there and began funneling out the hut but Holo stayed behind and encouraged Ranger to do the same. Once they were alone she asked, "Is everything alright? You seem very bitter." Ranger gave her a slight look of disbelief which caused her to make an addendum, "More than usual."

His eyes appeared stymied, looking for an explanation but the most he could muster to say was, "All this has been difficult and unfavorable leaving me exhausted and…' he paused then finished, '…weary."

Holo nodded very understandingly and replied, "I know how difficult this has been. Both of us have been robbed of something very valuable and have been played something terribly,' then touching the hem of the garment concealing his arm she pled, 'but I need you to be the one with the cool head. I need the man who looked after me when all seemed lost."

Only his eyes informed her of his devotion to her request. She had to be content with it regardless of the level they professed. Smiling sympathetically, for she too shared a department of grief of which he belonged, Holo turned around and left.

He then said when in solitude, "It may be the last thing I will ever do." then departed shortly after.

Once reunited with the troupe he beheld them communicating with Naluk who said, "We do have a means of which our people use to traverse the snow at great speeds, allow me to show you."

As they proceeded to follow him Nazani quietly stood behind Ranger and said with a tone low enough for only him to hear, "Before you leave, presumably for the last time, is there anything I can do for you?"

Ranger lowered his head and answered, "There is one favor I might ask, but can we go to your sick room and discuss it?"

Nazani slowly erected his posture then guided the way towards his infirmary.

Holo and the rest were soon introduced to the method of commute Naluk had mentioned, a long sled with small harnesses. Agatha recognized it and nudged Holo, "That'll work but I don't think ye'd like it lass."

"Why's that?"

Naluk answered, "It is pulled by a team of dogs."

"Oh!' resumed Holo curiously then asked in good faith, 'have you a team to spare?"

There was nothing but silence with all eyes resting on Holo, "…ah…I see." she said begrudgingly.

Naluk commented, "I will see if some of the villagers are able to fasten harnesses large enough for you to wear great one."

Turning a little red she said under her breath, "The humiliations this wise wolf must endure."

As Naluk was electing to the task he fore described Holo was returning to the village looking for Ranger. Her keen nose depicted a trail to the hut of Nazani. She proceeded up, knocked, was answered, then entered. Upon opening the door she found the wolf shaman, who was loading vials of blue elixir into a case and Ranger sitting upon a chair both hands resting against his knees.

Immediately she could tell something was amiss.

"I am not interrupting anything am I?" she inquired with prudent precaution.

Nazani looked to Ranger then back to her and said as he began reloading the case, "Oh, he just wanted to be sure he did not need any additional recuperation from his last bout. And also,' closing the case, 'requested a generous supply of this to help you along your way."

Holo's ear flexed, it was not the total truth.

Upon finding his usefulness exceeded he opted to depart. Once gone Holo delved further into this meeting, "Is everything alright?"

"It is well enough." he answered shortly.

Holo nodded but appeared sad that she was not worthy to feel compassion for him and was about to leave when he suddenly called out, "I am not as spry as I once was. I needed all ailments healed and my body made as whole as possible for this next venture."

"So are you saying you are feeling more worn down than usual?"

"I cannot let my strength fail me…not now."

Holo frowned, "Perhaps you need some emotional support, yes?"

Ranger leaned back, "It will not be necessary."

She giggled and waived him off, "Oh no, not from me. I know just the thing to cheer your spirits, allow me to return!"

She departed before he could respond leaving him to wait.

After a few minutes the door reopened and in walked his most faithful companion, Kaytaff. A large black and gold shepherd dog who, as soon as he saw him, panted happily, wagged his tail, ran up and lifted himself onto his master's lap.

Ranger held him, gave him a pat and let the hound lick his face.

Closer towards the end of the afternoon the mountaineers had endeavored to leave with an escort of the Kahotoe braves along with Soldatna, Nazani's surviving daughter. Holo was in beast form stiffly allowing herself to be harnessed to the sled. When all straps and synchs were exacted the party loaded up. She turned her head to see Ranger and Kaytaff coming over the small mound in the horizon which wagged her tail a little.

His step was strong and his stride powerful. He moved as a man with purpose. Stopping at the head he said to Holo, "One last venture."

Nodding she pulsed heavy steam out her nose, "_May success be our favor._"

Ranger assented and said with enthusiasm, "Success favors he who is most prepared. Let us send for this Raven and recruit him to our cause."

Holo leapt a little in place, "_Climb aboard!_"

Ranger sat in behind Emilio who became rigid at the thought of it and Kayaff curled in a ball up front. Holo pawed the ground, stretched her back legs then her front. Ranger leaned forward and warned the boy, "You had better lean back." then faded away.

"What do…" he suddenly whipped back with a yelp as Holo shot forth and darted through the tundra with ungovernable haste leaving Emilio near yelling for his life.


	3. Wolf and the Slithering Specter

**Chapter 2**

**Wolf and the Slithering Specter**

Just outside the modest outpost of Trapper's Loop, by hence of a league or so, Holo, much to the relief of her passengers, brought the sled runners to a halt. It was discovered along the way that the sled was not designed to be pulled by a wolf of her stature nor at the speeds she mustered on account of one strap breaking and, when taking a bend, it toppled over ejecting it's occupants.

Upon dismounting Agatha informed them that she and Nikiski would go and collect their bounty, return, then discuss future endeavors from there. Holo lay on her stomach and patiently awaited with the others. After ten minutes the brims of their heads were crowning the hill. Though every party member had differing expectations regarding the sum to be acquired they were all pleasantly surprised to see a bulging bag of gold and silver in Agatha's possession.

Yet the joy of renumeration was replaced with melancholy upon their countenances followed by Agatha's pained remark, "A good chunk of this were the shares of those who perished, let's spend it wisely yeah?"

Beholding the ruin upon the sled Holo replied, "_A wagon would be the most logical choice, yes?_"

"Aye, but what of horses?" inquired Agatha knowing the expenses of such beasts this far north called for higher dubbance.

"_If we can secure the wagon I can pull it further south to where a team can be fetched for a much cheaper price._"

"Raven…" came the gentle whisper of Nikiski.

Agatha interoperated his meaning then spoke for him, "I suppose this Raven may be of help in that regard."

Jethro folded his arms and pondered intentionally aloud, "Does he own horses?"

Nikiski nodded.

"Will he simply employ them and himself to our cause?" came his inquiring addendum.

At this Nikiski paused and seemed hesitant.

Emilio suddenly spoke up, much to the ire of the one who scrutinized him, "How do you know this? Do you even know where to find him?"

Ranger's hand seized his shoulder with such a scrupulous grip that it commanded the boy's silence.

Holo sided with the boy in her own way, "_Agreed, how do you know of his dwelling after all these years apart?_"

Nikiski made no grand adjustment in his stature yet he lacked just enough subtlety to display he was hiding something. Holo looked to Agatha who enforced the sentiment of the man she stood beside.

"_But you are sure you can find him?_"

"Undoubtedly." said Agatha enacting as his mouthpiece.

Holo partially rolled on her side and began licking her paw which gave inclination for them to retake their place in Trapper's Loop to obtain a wagon. Oddly enough Jethro volunteered to make it a trio and departed with them for reasons of his own.

Emilio in the meantime gazed upon Holo in her wolf form completely taken by her beastly majesty. Ranger took offense to his peering and forced the boy to sit with his eyes directed elsewhere with Kaytaff enacting as his sentinel. Holo observed it, gave a passive sigh out her nose, silently shook her head and resumed grooming.

Amongst the multiple tents and shacks that Trapper's Loop contrived of was a fenced area where a pious amount of wagons were stored and a few equines to pull them could favorably bargain with the pocket book of any investor. Jethro leaned against the fence with a foot lifted upon the lowest picket seeming dissatisfied with the options at hand.

As Agatha and Nikiski reared up behind him they beheld what caused his dissatisfaction.

"Handcarts and buggies?' stammered Agatha, 'there be none here large enough to carry us all."

"Except that one." said Jethro pointing to a large wagon complete with a bonnet.

"Mercy me,' resumed Agatha, 'that thing be so grand we'd need a team to haul it."

Turning to Nikski Jethro said, "I spoke to the owner and he said he wants to be rid of it and is willing to settle at a reasonable price. Maybe cheap enough for us to get a team along with it."

Just as he spoke they witnessed the afore mentioned owner approaching them while greeting, "Are these the ones in charge?"

"Indeed they are." said Jethro.

Attuning his attention upon them he informed, "Your friend here says you're looking for a large wagon. I've been holding this one for five years and am willing to part with it for half price."

"There always be a hook to every lure." replied Agatha with suspicion.

Understanding her distrust the owner informed with all sincerity, "I acquired it many years ago in hopes to make a profit off it. But all it has done is cost me space upon this lot, I simply wish to be rid of it."

Jethro commented, "I don't see anymore options from where we are."

Nikiski let out a gruff sigh from his nose as he nodded then gave his answer with a defeated look over to Agatha who said, "We'll take it."

To the happiness of the lot owner to be rid of the wagon and to the relief to Agatha that the price requested was generously within their budget, the wagon was pushed out and into the main service camp where supplies could be purchased and loaded.

When the last crate was set into the bed Agatha turned to Jethro and said with a suspicious tone that took him off guard, "Mr. McKinley how bout ye settle for a pint while me and the boss settle another account?"

A brief pause had been instilled before his response, "As you wish Ms. McDubbland."

His departure was convincing enough to allow Agatha and Nikiski to recede from the throngs towards the outskirts. However Jethro carefully kept his one eye upon their forms and curtailed them subduing his presence amongst the hordes of passerby's.

At last he spied them walking into the pillars of the forest to where no eyes could account their business. Jethro followed them in at a league of reasonable conspicuousness then, once their target destination seemed to be reached, hid himself behind a large tree and spied from there.

What he beheld was a spectered figure hooded and cloaked in black approaching them. Some uneasy business seemed to be exchanged that concluded with a small sack of coins being extended towards the mysterious individual. From its draping sleeve extended the hand of the figure that was of yellowish green skin protruding sharp nails from each fingertip taking the pouch with delight.

To his subtle alarm Jethro felt as though the hems of the stranger's cloak slightly swayed towards his direction as if the slithery figure discovered him. Alas this cryptic meeting was concluding by which Jethro discretely removed himself so he may be found at the gin mill where he was to be expected.

By the time Agatha and Nikiski had called for him he was seen sitting at a table with a mug in hand. As they made way to depart Jethro was convinced they were ignorant of what he witnessed.

In time the wagon was pushed to where the wisewolf was roosting and soon a method for her to extract was developed by means of a rope tied to the tongue that she could clamp and pull behind her.

As the group was preparing to make way Holo took a rather sour disposition towards the handling of Emilio at the hand of Ranger who, once he finished having him harshly placed in the wagon, took him aside for a private audience.

"_I feel you are being too overbearing._" said she.

His response was swift, "I feel you are too forgiving."

"_Tis' not about forgiveness,_' she defended, '_this boy has a wealth of knowledge that can be used to fight Jurgen. It would be prudent to not give him reason to resent us_."

Ranger seemed awestruck at her sentiment, "This boy is a child of your enemy. You suppose you can turn his mind against those who conditioned his allegiances?"

A gust of wind sprang from her nostrils, "_The ones he had allegiance to are the same ones who imprisoned him and left him for dead. His mind can be more easily swayed if we encourage it._"

Ranger sighed and rubbed the back of his head with his right hand then suddenly stopped and put it behind him, "Is that what you see in him?"

"_What I see_,' resumed Holo, '_is what I saw in D'nesh those few fatal encounters we had with him._"

"And that is?"

"_That even he who had been raised under cruelty and hatred was never truly evil at heart._"

His only response was to walk back to the wagon in silence with Holo watching him hoping he had reflected upon their small discourse.

As soon as everyone was seated Holo picked up the rope and asked of Agatha, "_What is our destination?_"

"We push southeast further along the Roam river and through the forest of Saint Rostov. Once out of the woods we follow the river's left branch through a canyon that leads into the lands called Badorenz."

"_Is that where Raven is?_"

"Absolutely."

Jethro suddenly spoke with an alarming amount of silent scrutiny, "And how is it you know this?"

Taken back by the tone he used to beseech that information Agatha replied with appropriate uneasiness, "The lands we be off to are riddled with bandits, thieves and all other filthy hoodlums in between. It be a lawless land of scoundrels and scalawags where the only authority men answer to are mercenaries and vigilantes."

"How does this prove he's there?"

"There be one man who makes his living off bringing justice to countless criminals in those parts. A bounty hunter going by the name Durango."

"You're sure this Durango is Raven?"

"…Yes…" came the raspy voice of Nikiski who clearly did not want the methods he employed to retrieve this information revealed.

"How so?" Jethro challenged which only served to make the atmosphere more uncomfortable.

After looking around a bit Agatha suggested, "If there be something on your mind Mr. McKinley now would be an ideal time to share it."

Jethro shrugged as if to dispel his scrutinizing investigation, "I simply wish to know how you came by to know this."

She answered, "Nikiski never completely lost his whereabouts and the stories of this Durango fall fairly in line with Raven's character."

Jethro nodded solemnly by which Holo who had become irritated with this delay interjecting her desires, "_If you are done fraternizing with one another I would like put an end to this dallying and leave!_"

A little frightened by the beast's rage Agatha encouraged her to move on, "Very well lassy, just remember don't run this thing into the ground."

Holo moved forward causing the wagon to lurch into motion. Emilio shook along and looked at Ranger who sat in front of him with his sheathed sword pressed upright against his shoulder who gave him a threatening glare causing the boy to put his eyes elsewhere.

As the wagon wheels rocked along the terrain Jethro asked loud enough over the road noise, "How far do we plan on traveling today?"

Holo hardened her eyes and kept her gaze dedicated, "_We are not stopping until we get there._"

_…_

The wagon which Holo pulled was not the only one in motion that morning for there was one smaller that had been established near a small stream where a man upon bended knee lapped a few dregs from its current. He was none other the Philip Bourgeois, failed sergeant of the Nyohirra city guard, former subordinate of the capricious Lt. Dorian, person of interest to investigator Stephan Ziccardi and most of all a wanted man by the corporals who sought him.

His movements were tainted with soreness on account of the healing gash stitched together across his gut while his pristine mustache had become muddled with stubble.

Further up stream was the white bearded Radovan Tenbrook who took to filling a cask before brushing the horse down. The old man took a moment to spy Bourgeois arising off his knee with a slight stagger leading him to compress his stomach as he walked towards the coach.

"How's the injury?" asked Radovan.

"Treating me better than the morning is." he groaned while working his joints.

The old man saluted his head, "Once you get my age, every hour of the day is morning."

Radovan extended to Philip a piece of jerky which he took, tore in two and shared the larger portion with.

"How far are we outside of Valenfurt?" he asked.

"Should be there before noon, weather permitting." replied the cockney.

Philip bobbed his head while taking in his surroundings like a deer watching for monsters in the shadows. Radovan took an interest to his paranoid observing of the world and asked, "How far behind do you suppose they are?"

"Sir?" asked Bourgeois with the same alarm a soldier has when suddenly called to arms.

"The people who are looking for you, how far behind do you think they are?"

With a dubious attempt to sway that suspicion he replied without looking in his direction, "What makes you think I am being pursued?"

Radovan was quick to name his reasons, "You're secretive, you refuse to rest, you always wish to be on the move, you become anxious when we stop and you're constantly looking over your shoulder.' he then gave an entrapping smile, 'your behavior is strikingly similar to the habits of the animals I have hunted down."

Philip sighed, "It more suffices me to say that I am most likely being sought after in the present moment."

Old man Trodder continued to brush the horse down, "So am I helping a good man make a daring escape, or am I assisting a fugitive extend his days outside the reach of justice?"

Philip bit his lower lip, "That's difficult to say, it depends on your individual perspective of justice."

Radovan then set his arms on the horse's back looking much more authoritative, "The little girl back in my settlement, my granddaughter, I am all the family she has left, and I do not have enough days to see her into adulthood. I need to know right now what risks may come to either me or her."

Bourgeois pondered a moment then spoke carefully chosen words, "If I am discovered by those who have been the object of my anxiety they will move to apprehend me and take me back to from which I hail. I will not see the gallows nor would I be confined for years on end but if the purpose of my journey goes unfulfilled worse things will come of it. For you see, a terrible conspiracy has been uncovered and if I can do my part in thwarting it, then the chances of your granddaughter seeing adulthood will be that much the better."

Radovan remained as still as a statue.

"Well let's get you to Valenfurt."

The horse was hitched and the wagon was in motion not too long after that.

Early that afternoon the wheels of Radovan's old wagon came rolling along the muddy roads of Valenfurt. Once the bridle halted the horse's stride Bourgeois dismounted then panned his eyes around the filthy town. Radovan took advantage of his idleness by seizing the moment to ask, "What are going to do now?"

Without ever breaking his hardened gaze from the abyss of his own thoughts he replied, "See what I can discover."

He then proceeded to walk off with the old man calling out once more, "What are you looking for?"

Turning his head slightly back Philip said, "I'll know when I find it."

The instinct which brought the failed sergeant to what he sought was one that was molded over his long career as a sentinel. It did not begin with the dawning of his uniform, it began, as with us all, with his nature. He had a want to see the righteous values of a polite society defended, he had a desire to see both law and order upheld, he had a disdain for corruption, he had a calculative mind and a knack for mysteries, and above all he had conviction. These attributes is what pulled him towards his profession and by doing so he became well acquainted with the habitats and dwellings of the elusive snakes and cunning foxes of the criminal underbelly, which is what conducted him to enter the tavern named The Gold Nugget.

As he passed through the doors all seemed to go quiet with a sleuth of eyes upon him. He needed no more than the way he composed himself to declare where on the law he stood. He had the air of a soldier which could be smelled by the lawless, unfortunately that same law pursued him and now he was a soldier without a frontier.

He casually walked to the bar and relaxed his arms upon it allowing some patrons to envelop some ease and resume their gaiety. Upon checking his right and left shoulders he found the barkeep approaching him.

"What'll it be?"

Scratching at the stubble under his chin Bourgeois submitted his order with a conspicuous tone, "You wouldn't happen to have Kumersun wine would you?"

The tapper lifted his eyebrows at the request then dug through the liqueur cabinet to bestow a dusty bottle containing the spirit which he sought. After pouring some into a shot glass and sliding it his way the barkeep said with an ease of tension, "Not often I get a man with a good taste in liqueur."

Lifting the shot to his lips Philip said with a playful hostility, "You should get out of town more, we're everywhere." then downed it without remorse.

The tapper smirked some and replenished the paltry dregs, "Don't think I've seen you around here before, where do you hail?"  
"I'm from wherever business was good."

Upon his second endeavor to drain his cup the barkeep asked as he topped it off, "So what business is good enough to blow you through my doors?"

Lifting his eyebrows some to display innocence he replied, "We'll see how good it really is, I'm looking for someone, if you've seen them."

The tapper leaned in closer to avoid earshot, "That depends, I've seen a lot of people."

Bourgeois too leaned in knowing he had him in a snag, "A man with a sword, hooded and masked accompanying a young woman with red eyes and light brown hair."

At that very moment the former sergeant felt his backside checked breaking his interrogation. Looking back he found no one who could have been the perpetrator then resumed.

The barkeep nodded and said, "Yes, I do recall someone like that in here almost a week earlier."

"What was their business?"

The barkeep leaned back taking the defensive, "Who's asking?"

Bourgeois deciphered the reason for his forestalling to be that of the impression this masked man must have made which caused him to ask in response, "Sounds like he's caused some trouble when he was here."

"You could say that,' replied the tapper, 'more in Cross Iron than down here. What's it to you?" then coldly poured another round.

Bourgeois swirled his beverage around then said in a tone equal in indifference, "I'm someone who likes to put an end to trouble." then drank his last round, set the glass down and pushed it away.

"So how about it?" said he.

Taking the shot glass so it could be cleaned with a cloth the barkeep said very discretely, "At first they seemed to be a female merchant escorted by a mercenary for protection, but word of mouth said they seemed to be up to something."  
Becoming more pressed for a solid lead Bourgeois asked, "Where you the last one to see them?"

"No, our local butcher had some dealings with them and threw a fuss over the way he was treated."

"Where's the butcher?"

"Two blocks over to the west of here."

Bourgeois slapped his money on the table and departed with the barkeep putting the bottle away with eager haste to show as if this exchange never happened.

Once Philip was outside the tavern he made way for the butcher's shop. Once there he called upon the man of interest and inquired of him about the masked man and the fair woman of ocre hair who sourly recalled his dealings with them. After some more discourse Bourgeois discovered from his young apprentice that the strangers who he sought made plans to make a delivery for a warehouse headed by a man named Jacapo. His journey took him there.

As he approached the warehouse to inquire of this Jacapo his hands fell into his pockets to where a mysterious note was discovered. As to how it got there he assumed it was deposited by whomever jostled him at the bar but as to the whereabouts of the one planted it were unknown.

Yet more curiosity was devoted to the letter's nature which was satisfied by him opening and reading it.

"_Many vipers live under the rocks you overturn._

_ There is a lodge on the outskirts northwest, the trail closest to where you entered will lead you there, and there I will be waiting._"

Philip understood the warning, discretely hid the letter away and returned to the wagon with the realization that his identity was accounted for weighing upon his senses. He came upon Radovan who tended to the horse to keep himself occupied then became silently alarmed by the change in his partner's demeanor which became even more so when Bourgeois asked of him, "Have you a knife somewhere?"

The old man held himself as if he wished to turn away without saying a word, however as a true man loyal to his word he bestowed upon him his hunting knife. Philip took and concealed it with enough secrecy to avoid outside suspicion then instructed, "If I do not return in thirty minutes go home to your granddaughter and speak nothing of this to anyone." His boots then turned and made dints in the mud up the trail.

In ten minutes time Bourgeois found himself standing before a small cabin in the woods. Though never having seen it before the sense of death could be felt emanating from within. Carefully he approached the threshold of the door, opened it slowly with a creak and entered the dreary abode.

The light that shown through the window and clearance between the slats gave a sickly gradation to the abandoned hut. He, with purposeful timidness, stepped over the overturned furniture and other household objects in disarray with his nose plugged from the stench of former decay. The greatest article that piqued his interest was a message inscribed in blood upon the wall that read, '_Can the warrior still conceal the fight? Can the wolf withhold the bark yet yield the bite?_'

His thoughts were so engrained upon it that he failed to comprehend the voice that spoke behind him from the doorframe, "Careful where you step."

He wheeled around knife drawn and at the ready. Standing before him across the threshold of the antechamber was the same hooded figure in black we have seen earlier in this narrative.

The figure took account of the knife pointed towards him with both a disdain and a superiority complex towards the one who wielded it.

"You have an odd hospitality towards the creature who kept you from harms way, sergeant." said he.

"How do you know me?" asked Bourgeois.

The sickly hands poked out their sleeves and removed the hood revealing the shorn head and snake eyes of the eerie serpent god Terusilan. Philip lowered his blade before his hardened scowl.

Terusilan bowed his head with a devilish smirk, "It's been too long…_Bogey_."

"Not long enough." replied Philip with a disdain to exceed that which was shown to him by his visitor.

"Oh come now sergeant, we want the same thing."

"And that is?"

"Why to see the prevalence of justice of course!" said the serpent with that deceitful air which came before each word he spoke.

"Strange, last time we collaborated, justice did not seem on your agenda."

"Your interests and my interests intertwined during that whole ordeal, can you simply not be content with that?"

Bourgeois became rigid upon the notion that such conditions were repeating themselves anew, "What interest have we to share this time?"

Terusilan flicked forth his tongue, the rapid trademark of a serpent tracking it's prey, "You know as well as I, the business we engaged in those many years ago has recently been discovered to be unresolved."

"…Jurgen…"

The serpent occasioned an attraction to his solemnity which inclined him to smile, "Oh yes, the hunter of gods and enemy to human decency was not eradicated as you would have hoped." he then took note of Philip's dejected nature and could not resist but relish in human suffering, "Tis a shame really, all the work you exerted in bringing him to justice, the alliances forged and broken and now here you are, a renegade from the very system you swore to uphold."

Philip ended his degrading charade there, "You need not repeat my personal history snake."

"So crass…' sighed Terusilan with an offense that fell under pretense, 'Well I know who it is you seek and am willing to impart my knowledge of their escapades with you willingly."

"Without price?" interjected Bourgeois with his unfailing demeanor.

"Come now,' reasoned the serpent god, 'I have learned the precious gift of charity over the years from you humans."

"When it suits you I'm sure." Philip ridiculed.

Finding the joy of this little word game sapping from his mind Terusilan alas wished to move things along, "Do you wish to know what has happened among the ones you seek, or do you wish to discover their bearings on your own while wasting precious time?"

Philip crossed his arms over his broad chest, "Very well, I shall hear you."

In a single go Terusilan shared the brief history of Holo and Ranger uninterrupted.

"Shortly after your near death experience the inn keepers and Laternieux's band of do-gooders were besieged by a small army. Oh they fought bravely they did, but the ordeal ended with the death of two rangers the kidnapping of Lawrence and another named Matthias with the poor little wolf moping her way along with the masked brute at her side to forge a daring rescue mission.

They passed through here and roused the suspicion of the eyes and ears Jurgen had stationed around then made their way to Cross Iron to where a member of De Buhr's inner circle was well established, a handsome fiend by the name Evgeny Ovetchkin head of the Nabakov trading guild. He tried to have them killed but they ended up triumphing in the end, taking near half the town with them in the process, you know the wrath of gods is nothing short of overt.

From Evgeny they learned that Jurgen had Lawrence and Matthias detained in his mansion in the depths of Yoites leading our heroic duo ever onward!

They were not without opposition of course, as it turns out they found themselves in the middle of a peculiar conflict. You see the surviving inuit tribes and what wolves remained on that frozen scrap of land had been locked in a centuries old conflict that ignited into a savage war when the duo made their appearance. It may have been something over Holo being a descendant of a traitor and or the masked man having killed the inuit ancestors in the past, the exact details did not interest me so I overlooked them.

But you'll be happy to know they survived and made new friends along the way. Tis' a shame though, that Jurgen had forsook his mansion taking Lawrence and Matthias with them leaving the tired duo to venture on in vain."

Had Bourgeois not been made previously aware of Terusilan's ability to make even the betrayal Caesar a trivial matter constructed of absurd details he would have assumed the story a farce, however he possessed a sense that this history was not relayed in its true Justice.

"So that is were they have been,' said he, 'but to where are they going?"

The forked tongue flicked with heinous delight from the serpent's lip, "Now that has a price."

"You know I have not even a lute copper to my name."

Terusilan stroked his chin and looked up as if deep in thought, "What a dilemma. Ah, I do remember that there are other things worth their weight in gold."

A pang of fear struck Philip through the chest that traveled down his spine and escaped out his toes. Had he been employed to collect for Terusilan all the gold in the world it would not feel him with the same degree of dread as to what he suspected to be tasked with, a favor.

In a tone respective of that fear Philip asked, "What do you want?"

Terusilan began to walk forward, each step, a step of doom.

"The duo are headed west to Badorenz with a rag tag team of mercenaries."

"And…?" pled Bourgeois who backed away until obstructed by the wall as the snake god continued to cross the threshold of the room.

"They are attempting to reunite two men who knew Jurgen very well and can help make him end."

"Why would this reunion concern me as you imply it would?" asked Philip ready to smite as he drew closer.

"Because they are the two surviving warbirds."

Philip fell into a stupor.

"Oh yes now you are beginning to see. You remember yes? When you and Laternieux had a sure plan and sent those men into a den of unfathomable sorrow and torture? When it was all said and done you walked away from it and got your promotion in Nyohirra; or am I mistaken?"

Philip clenched his jaw so tightly he nearly broke his own teeth, "Choices were made, actions were taken that day. Now what do you want from me?"

Terusilan let out a hiss from the foulest depths of his animosity towards mankind, "Your inability to have that man properly ripped from this world has caused a ripple among certain walks of life I find most appealing. My terms and conditions are simple, finish the job you let stagnate over the years and make the world a slightly less bleaker place for those dismal enough to crawl upon it."

The grizzled mustache above the sergeant's lip flexed into a slight smirk, "Yes I am now beginning to see. You make a living as an information broker while going about your business in the comfort of knowing you will live to see the next day. However the presence of Jurgen threatens that."

Terusilan squinted, falling silent and unamused.

"Jurgen is an old time enemy of Laternieux, your best paying customer. Not only this, his campaign has been and always be the extermination of the animal spirits such as yourself. You know eventually he'll uncover the rock you've been hiding under and smite you without mercy. You want him dead not for the sake of the earth but for yours."

A fear inducing hiss broke the air followed by the piercing sight of the serpent's fangs extending out from his lips dripping with venom. Bourgeois remained composed but was betrayed by a bead of perspiration forming at his temple that slowly descended down his face.

"You forget the extent of my knowledge sergeant!' hissed Terusilan seething with displeasure, for the only honesty he despised was the one that unveiled his more self undesirable traits, 'There are many who have forgotten about you but I have not, I have not forgotten about the ones dearest to you, the ones you left behind to ensure their safety!"

An entirely new emotion swept over the face of Philip Bourgeois, one that was in complete contrast to the confidence displayed earlier.

This quickened shift in demeanor gleefully put Terusilan into the emotional upper hand he always coveted, "Yes I know about _her, _the one creature fair enough to be worthy of your affection, the one individual you loved enough to distance yourself from to see her out of harms way. Well mark my words, if you fail in bringing De Buhr down to his grave she will be the first one I visit in my wrath!"

Philip trembled at the sleuth of threats and exposures he found assaulting his being with unrelenting uncertainty, "If you dare so much as cast a gaze in her direction then I'll-"

Terusilan raised a finger to collect the dab of sweat from off his cheek and onto his elongated nail, "You'll do what exactly?"

The disgraced sergeant could only stare into the face of the monster who cornered him and exhibited submission to him with his silence.

Flicking the bead of diaphoresis from off his finger the snake man said with a foul tempered simper of the mouth, "That is right."

He was about to make another advance forward if not for a discomforting sensation poking in his chest. The snake looked down and beheld the knife he had been ignorantly aloof pressed into his body ready to deliver a fatal blow. Terusilan turned and proceeded to extract himself from the hut, while doing so he redrew his hood, stopped and said when at the door, "Head west to Badurenz, I will guide you as need be. Make haste for your corporals are not too far behind you. The clock is ticking _Bogey _and I am not a patient man."

His figure alas withdrew from view leaving the petrified sergeant alone and with much to contemplate. Once he decided it was safe enough to remove himself from the scene he made his way back down the trail and found himself intercepted by Radovan who, when the thirty minutes was nearing its elapse, was coming for him instead of abandoning him as instructed.


	4. The Tribunal of The Black Ledger

**Chapter 3**

**The Tribunal of the Black Ledger**

For nearly three days the ship that housed Lawrence was continually adrift along the Roam river making no announcement of its voyage save the creaks and moans the current rocked upon its buoyancy. Lawrence and Matthias were confined to the bottom deck, in the depths of the hull. They had seen no light save it were by candle of which they were permitted only one during their transit aboard.

They were treated much more favorably than their dastardly season in the abyss of Jurgen's dungeons. This time they were well fed, given clean garments and had access to the poop deck. All these vast improvements considering their previous accommodations. Matthias was still grieved by the injury to his leg while Lawrence struggled to apiece his master plan while being separated from the woman who enabled his bravery.

Lawrence made sparing use of the candle to research the black ledgers, an inconvenience intentionally brought about by his caretakers, to obtain as much information as possible concerning the inner workings of the tribunal. The rationing of light was not the only obstacle to his scheme, he also needed to portray good intentions before Cyrus Aswadi who made it his appointment to place the merchant under his unrelenting scrutiny. But not only this, the distrust of his only friend during this time, Matthias, added to his vexations.

Yet Lawrence posessed more than unmatched business sense and good nature, he also had tenacity to work and construct his actions under the most stressful of circumstances, even through fear of pain and death. He was the man the great Holo the Wise Wolf found worthy of her matrimony after all.

A subtle creak, a lurch in momentum, and a nudge from under the keel announced to them that the ship was preparing to make port. From above deck a square of light pierced the blackness as the hatch was pulled ajar with a voice from one of the deckhands informing, "We are preparing to make berth. Bring them up to disembark."

Lawrence closed the ledger automatically and arose but durst not set foot anywhere until Cyrus approved. Once the lines were cast and the starboard bow was secured Cyrus tossed Matthias a crutch and admitted them to the main deck. No sooner than when they had surfaced they shielded their eyes from the pain of daylight.

While still in the struggle of lifting their eyelids they could detect by ear strange and unusual cries to those who are landlocked, they were the shrieks of seagulls. Once the sting of their eyes subsided enough for them to struggle them open Lawrence caught but a glimpse of endless blue beyond the buildings.

"How far have we traveled?"

Matthias grunted while rubbing his sockets, "We've gone as far east as the continent can allow."

"Welcome to Dehlmare,' came the sinisterly polite voice of Jurgen De Buhr who casually strode up behind him from the helm, 'the port town farthest east of Ploania."

Alas Lawrence was able to fix his gaze and set it upon the crashing waives far in front beyond the streets and alleys, "The ocean? That is the ocean?"

"Have you not seen it before?"

With a heart playing a balancing act above the pit of despair Lawrence replied, "I have been to the port town of Kerube and sailed across the channel to Winfiel. But I never thought I would ever lay eyes on the eastern sea.' then after sinking his head said, 'nor have I been this far from the place I've called home."

"Well with luck,' replied Jurgen as shipmates began establishing the docking ramp and walked towards it, 'you'll be even further than this."

A rod of fear shot through his chest at these words but could not dwell on it for Cyrus was quick to force them towards the pier. As they descended down the ramp Lawrence spied a man, backed by a troop, awaiting lord De Buhr, who shook hands with him in a cordial greeting. He had grey hair kept shortly held to the scalp who was plump enough for his chin and neck to meet. His dress consisted of the deep red robes of a high ranking city official with lines of gold adorning the hems.

"Thank you for meeting with me personally my friend." said Jurgen to the stranger who turned to Lawrence to introduce him, "This is Gustav Bihari, head of the Starboard Emporium."

Lawrence gave him salutations via nod of the head and replied, "Pleased to meet you I'm Kraft Lawrence, newly recruited financier to Jurgen De Buhr."

The tone in which he employed caused ire to pulse through the flesh of Cyrus who withheld recourse while in the eye of the public. Gustav appeared slightly amused while Jurgen chuckled, "That is one way to put it.' then diverting topics, 'let us conduct business within your guild. I will have my men unload at once."

Gustav extended his hand and informed, "No need my lord. Hathom fetch my gords."

The one whom he addressed replied affirmatively and withdrew to the warehouse. Not soon after, three of the largest men Lawrence had ever laid eyes on advanced from the structure towards the docks. Each stood no shorter than seven feet tall and could be no lighter than three hundred pounds. Lawrence carefully eyed them, the one in front had frizzy black hair and mutton chops, large bellied and massively fisted, resembling more of an ogre than a man. The two behind him were identical, blonde haired, chisel chinned with cleft indentations running down the course of their thick jaws. They however were not plump like the other, their shoulders were broad and their stomachs flat.

Lawrence could not keep his eye off the dark haired one, he was the largest of them all and clearly the leader of the trio who most likely took that mantle due to a test of strength once ensued in their history.

Even Cyrus took their stature as something worthy of note as he gripped his concealed arms as they drew closer. The trio of brutes stopped before Bihari who introduced them, "Lord De Buhr, these are my gords,' to the ogre, 'Andre Golokov,' then to the blondes, 'Vladmir and Vladislav Pervukhin. I won them in a card game last year and will serve you well."

He then turned to them and instructed while pointing to the boat, "Unload the crates."

Andre huffed out his nostrils then proceeded to march up the ramp with the other two in tow like fuming bison. They returned back down this time burdening their arms with large crates hugging their chests. Lawrence marveled at their strength which rivaled that of the common oxen. They began setting their loads in order so they could be logged. Lawrence knew the purpose of this was a ruse to have Jurgen and Gustav meet in secret with him undoubtedly having to participate.

"Salutations _Monsieur's_!" cried another voice which halted all operations and set eyes upon the perpetrator of it.

There, standing at the border of the dockyard, was a gentlemanly soldier wearing a noblemen's shirt embraced with a jerkin styled tabard of dark green around his torso, black trousers tucked into his jackboots with the final touches being an aramis cape draping aloft his left shoulder and handsomely sporting a cavalier hat sprouting an extravagant feather which went well with his long curly brown hair neatly drooped down the back of his neck and blue eyes sitting high above a finely twirled mustache perched over a perfectly triangular mouche that enlightened the definitions of his chiseled jaw.

Two others, dressed like him, were resigned on both sides of him.

"What do you want, lieutenant?" asked Gustav with a history of ill acquaintance preceding him.

With one hand on his waist and the other (both clad in leather swordsman gloves) pointing up the fair man replied, "Ah, ah, I have been promoted as of late, it is Capitano Jean-Luc Pierre Lemonte now." said he with a tone familiar in assuming authority.

"Fancy that,' spat Gustav with an air of ire, 'congratulations are in order but forgive me for not celebrating this achievement, as you can see I have business to attend to."

"Heyday!' replied Lemonte, 'Tis' why I have come to you at this hour. For recently a cavalier of the grand legion spied an unknown merchant vessel drifting into your dock and had sent for me to carry out the duties that permit me to allow you to carry out yours."

Lawrence calmly looked over to Jurgen you shot glances between both Gustav and Lemonte like a man under pressure.

"And what are these duties you intend to carry out?"

"Ah, an oversight,' observed Lemonte, 'to ensure all foreign cargo entering Dehlmare remains within the confines of the law; these men, and myself, shall conduct a quick examination of all product you have taken off board."

Though Lawrence was a sworn enemy to these men he felt the same bolt of apprehension strike him as it did they.

The giant hands of labor went on as if oblivious to the conversation.

Gustav, subduing his irate emotions, replied, "Come now Lemonte, you and the Marquis know the logistical issues that come with this."

"Should all the products within those crates meet the parameters the Marquis has set then there shall be no logistical issue to be resolved." came Lemonte's quick but sure reply who seemingly chose devotion to law over any accommodation.

Then looking to Jurgen asked, "What is it you carry?"

De Buhr answered innocently enough like a man who has done this countless times, "Gold and silver to be minted into coin and medicinal plants."

Lemonte nodded then looked over to Matthias and Lawrence, "And who are these gentlemen who accompany you?"

Lawrence felt a hot flash roll over his neck, Jurgen was about to answer for him if not for Lemonte objecting and opting to hear the answer come from the men he questioned personally.

"My name is Kraft Lawrence, I've been hired as a financial advisor for these men of esteemed class."

The mustache adorning Lemonte's lips twitched slightly, "And you, _Monsieur_ who is bound to that cane?"

"Matthias, a member of security."

"And was it by your devotion to this station that you have come by that injury?"

"Yes sir."

Satisfied, Lemonte therefore said, "Without much further ado we will examine your cargo."

Gustav intervened, "Not wise my friend, just think for a moment, there is potential for new coin for the poor and plants to be ground into medicine for our plague. Should one thing fall unfavorably in the eyes of the Marquis you will be forced to confiscate them and prevent these humanitarian efforts from reaching the less fortunate and down trodden. It is possible the people will hold the grand legion responsible for their misfortune take up arms in riot against you!"

There was not even a second's worth of pause before Lemonte fired back, "Let us not forget that it is the alleged activity of the Duke, of whom you have sworn allegiance, who has forced the Marquis to enforce policies that might incite the masses to rebellion."

Lawrence was so satisfied by his response he failed to keep his mouth from falling open.

Lemonte and the other two walked towards the crates, crowbars in hand, and pried the lids open to have their contents in plain view.

Lemonte plucked up a gold and silver nugget, held them to the sun for tight examination them then said as he tossed them back, "Unrefined gold and silver; according to the civil governments discord all gold and silver ushered in under the Duke and the Marquis must be weighed and taxed appropriately. You shall not touch these crates until a means to do so has been provided." then proceeded to count the crates and inscribe his findings upon a piece of parchment.

A flare rippled trough Gustav's brow.

The next batch was opened up revealing bushels of dried leaves. Lemonte picked one by the stem then showed it to his men and those of the Starboard Emporium.

"Angel leaf, as it has been referred to in times past, is now under the strict contraband mandate. These can only be sold to doctors and surgeons officially approved by the Marquis. The Duke has recently forfeited that privilege until the investigations against him are complete. Which means it is no longer within his power to grant it to those under his banner therefore they shall be expedited from these docks as immediate as time permits"

"But it can be manufactured into medicine here and distributed to the doctors without hiking the price!" protested Gustav as if to have the people's best interest in mind.

"True,' replied Lemonte rustling a hand trough the dry leaves, 'however there has been a hike in the illegal use of nimbus powder that has claimed both the lives and gold of many citizens now turned addicts. Nimbus powder, as you know, can be manufactured from angel leaf, the distribution of which as been traced back to the Duke. Had he been more prudent in his endeavors in the handling the stuff then perhaps there would be no shortage of coin and health among the masses."

Lemonte then did as he had done before, recorded the crates on parchment. Handing it off to one of his men he sent him away with instructions to have the correct bodies brought back to perform the operations previously described.

"This is an outrage!' bellowed Gustav, 'I demand these policies, of which the Marquis imposed, be exempt from me!"

He made a hostile move towards the cavalier who quickly drew a stance with one hand clutching the saber he had hooked round his belt, "If it is your desire to enact violence against me, know this, that I will defend myself vigorously!"

That is when an idea struck Gustav's head, "Yes, I desire both exemption and violence against you. And there happens to be a means I can have both, mutual combat."

An eyebrow below the cavalier's hat raised, "Very well, it can be settled here, for I have my second (motioning to his other man) and all these witnesses."

Lawrence whispered to Matthias, "What's going on?"

Cyrus overheard and answered to keep their voices down, "There shall be a duel between these factions, the victor gets his demands."

Lawrence turned slightly pale, "What kind of duel?" that is when he saw Lemonte detach his cape, hand it to his second which allowed his rapier to be exposed. Gustav approached the twin giants and demanded with order not to be failed, "One of you gords get a sword!"

Vladislav volunteered to be the combatant and was given a cutlass then was instructed to the designated arena.

"To the death…?!" Lawrence muttered, weary at the potential sight of blood.

Lemonte withdrew his saber, stepped before Vladislav who had three heads above him and whipped his blade upright before his chest. Vladislav did the same while the second instructed, "The duelists will turn and take three paces back."

Lemonte whipped his sword down, turned about and marched the demanded sum of steps then quickly turned back to face his opponent, performed a quick flourish which led into a politely aggressive fencing stance and remained motionless.

"This can't be happening." said Lawrence when accounting the size difference between the two men, "This isn't a duel it's an execution."

The second leaned over looking in Lawrence's direction, "The witnesses shall remain silent until the duel has ceased to commence. Gentlemen!"

Both swords aimed towards their rivals.

"En garde!"

Both shuffled in, blades lightly crossed at the tips while circling about. Vladislav made a huge step in collective with a grand swipe but found his attack foiled by the tip of Lemonte's rapier poked in the middle of his bicep. Vladislav grunted through his teeth, pulled free and went to reattempt a strike but was thwarted by Lemonte viscously slapping the hilt of his cutlass cascading it from his grip.

As Vladislav went to a knee to retrieve it another blow found itself in his inner thigh. Repossessing the blade in the opposite hand, he attempted to arise but was overcome with soreness just in time for Lemonte to make another mark similarly in the other arm. Vladislav attempted another effort from off the ground but was halted by the sensation of soft steel resting at his throat and made a motionless parley.

"The challenger may yield at anytime." informed Lemonte as a warning.

Vladislav grunted, dropped his sword and spat upon the ground as he painfully withdrew. Lawrence was awestruck, the duel did not even reach a tenure of ten seconds and Lemonte felled the giant as of David of old.

The least impressed of the group was Gustav who referenced Vladmir while announcing, "I have another challenger."

With a coolness and patience seemingly beyond his years Lemonte stood erect as the twin brother of his previous rival readied himself. The proceedings of the next duel ensued in same fashion and, "En garde!" was announced once more.

Despite being identical in appearance, Vladmir was not set out to mirror his brother's performance, he instead charged and made a deadly swipe to split the capitano of the grand legion in two. Surely any other man would have fled for safety but Lemonte made no such retreat, instead he parried with a loud clash then made a thrusting riposte that plunged through Vladmir's breast in a single go.

He fell to his knees, clutched his wound and coughed up blood while gasping for air. Lemonte addressed Gustav, "Have you any other challenger?"

The defeated Gustav looked to Andre and considered it a vain hope to lose three of his strongest bodies in a day. Then with disdain to that possibility he said to Andre, "Pick him up and take him to the doctor."

Andre did as he was told and grabbed his colleague by the collar and adopted this means to drag him to a physician.

Lemonte congratulated himself by wiping his blade clean, replacing it near his hip and redrawing his cape back into its original fashion like a model musketeer. As he was ready to make way he said while tightening his gloves, "I am the victor this day, therefore the demands of the Marquis will be met." he then withdrew without saying another word more.

Gustav made a signal for everyone in attendance to move inside save Vladislav who occupied himself in binding his wounds.

"I still expect a full day's work." was all he said to the gord then left him to it.

* * *

_Gold and Spice_

Within the Starboard Emporium up the stairs, down the hallway was the main office designated for Gustav's affairs. Seeing how Lawrence was to be apart of these, he too was situated in an arm chair across the desk from where Gustav resigned. Jurgen sat likewise at his left and Cyrus tucked himself into dark obscurity of the corner.

Gustav inaugurated the meeting with an air of noticeable resentment, "Lord De Buhr, though I am always pleased when you come to visit me personally, I had hoped, this time, it would be to refund me in full."

Jurgen, subduing the justice he felt by that reproach, tapped the heal of his shoe he had crossed over his other leg, "I understand, no one likes debt, and even less so to have to become a debtor to those he calls friends. But you see, for the perseverance of the tribunal, much if not all of my funds have been exhausted, including my return on investment with you and the others."

Gustav took a sudden chill to the manner in which his character was displayed, "You mean, the ones on Laterniuex's errand have survived the barrage you had waiting in store for them?"

A heavy reprieve escaped his nose as Jurgen replied, "Afraid so, in fact Evgeny had been compromised, so much so that he let slip many documents into the hands of our enemies and let loose many words into their ears."

"Surely this betrayal was met with the utmost deconsecration of his standing with us?"

"It had to wait, the Ranger and the wolf moved with great haste through Yoites which pressured me to flee."

"What of those natives you had a pact with, the Sawatii? Surely an army could have fronted your defense."

"That army was met with another army, of their rivals the Kahotoe tribe, who sided against them bungling that garrison as well. So now we are here, bankrupt and on the run."

"Do the others know of this?"

"Not yet, but they will eventually, that is why I've come to you first to parley. I have always considered you and I on the best terms of understanding, and would hope that you could send word using your voice. I'm sure they would be less wroth hearing it from a comrade on their level."

Gustav leaned forward, willing but agitated nonetheless, "I can quell the tides of dissatisfaction I'm sure, but as you said, no one likes to be a debtor and I happen to be a rather impatient one, even with those who think they are closest to me. Satisfaction ultimately comes from having our debts paid in full. How does one who is bankrupt plan to do so if not with his own life?"

Lord de Buhr motioned to Lawrence, "Remember the man I had hostage?"

"Wait, you mean?"

"Indeed, Holo's husband sits before you."

Gustav slammed his palms on the table and arose by those means, "You brought him into the fold?"

"Relax my friend, I have him under tight surveillance and in exchange for his life he is willing to use his expertise in satisfying the debt."

"A willingness misplaced I'd assume."

Suddenly Lawrence spoke coolly out of turn, "Your success rides on mine."

Every pair of eyes shifted towards him with unfailing scrutiny.

"Care to justify that comment Mr. Lawrence?" inquired Gustav with a greater level of hostility than originally displayed towards his better.

Lawrence maintained his posture despite the pressure he felt on his shoulders, "Because I know specifically why these are dire times to become a debtor to your presiding authority. I know why it is you have been calling on him more frequently for repayment."

"Explain yourself."

"You are facing the threat of bankruptcy also and have debts of your own to clear. And if you don't, certain doom will befall you also."

Unfazed by the risks portrayed, Gustav said callously, "I hope you are a better merchant than you are a gambler." in reference to a bluff.

"It's not a gamble when you can see your opponent's cards. I have seen the black ledgers and know everything about your inner workings and finances, and you're all in trouble."

The color from Gustav's face flushed in an instant and he cast himself back into his chair, "You allowed this…?" said he sliding a defeated gaze over to Jurgen who seemed rather resigned over the whole affair.

Keeping his legs crossed and his fingers elegantly collected at the apex of his chin Jurgen replied, "Well, back to your gambling metaphor, I decided it would be in all our best interests to take a chance rather than fold."

"But he knows everything…" Gustav sighed with overwhelming chagrin.

"Well,' started Lawrence, 'to speak as if this is a gambling game; these are the cards you've been dealt."

Gustav seemed to have no more energy to resist the man, who seemingly from nowhere, knocked him from off the boot he initially held him down with. With a weakened gasp of defeat his perseverance metamorphosed into desperation.

"Tell me your plan then."

Lawrence attempted that best merchant smile that always prevailed him, "To start, let's talk about your legitimate dealings that you keep on official record for auditing purposes. Your major imports come from the Eastern Trading and Company of Talhari which I am to assume is on the continent that lies all the way furthest east of this ocean. Am I correct?"

"Tis' true."

"What surprises me most is that your major imports from Talhari is angel leaf and slaves. Eastern countries make huge profits by selling and shipping gold and spices to western merchants who in turn make huge profits of their own. Yet I do not see you making these investments. Why is that?"

"Because the merchants waiving the Marquis' banner acquired that privilege first."

Lawrence appeared a bit stupefied as his ignorance on the matter seemed to overwhelm him allowing Jurgen to explain, "You see Mr. Lawrence, Dehlmare has a dual governmental body. The Grand Legion headed by an appointed Marquis with the cavaliers as their enforcers and The Royal Envoy headed by a Duke who choses his successor and is considered a servant of the church here. Their authority is extended through the arm of their policing unit known as The Vicars. Both the Legion and Envoy are accountable to the Council of Nine who determine which of them get which trading privileges. When there is a dispute among the two parties they can either take it up with the Council or engage in mutual combat."

"I take it then that the duel I witnessed has not been the only duel between representatives of these parties." observed Lawrence.

"Indeed so,' sighed Gustav rubbing his mid brow, 'Duels between and amongst the Vicars and the Cavaliers are a daily occurrence. Though mutual combat is a lawful way to resolve dispute, it is the most abused system in this power struggle between the Legion and the Envoy."

"I take it the Legion is gaining ground in this struggle then?" asked Lawrence with a tone of surety.

"And reaping all the benefits." concluded Gustav.

"Getting back to the first topic,' said Lawrence, 'is it impossible for you to get gold and spice from Talhari?"

"Not without paying a hefty tax to the Marquis."

"It'd be stupid to ask but I will anyway; you do know how to get past taxation right?"

Gustav massaged his temples, "We used to smuggle gold and spice in our angel leaf barrels and other assets but ever since the illegal distribution of nimbus powder has been linked to the Duke the entire Royal Envoy was put under investigation by the Legion by order of the Council of Nine. Every vessel docking in the interest of the Envoy were subject to be searched and naturally the smuggled goods were discovered with it which is why the privileges of minting coins ourselves and manufacturing nimbus powder have been redacted. Which was the origin of Lemonte's visit earlier today when you landed."

"I take it he's too troublesome of an enforcer to either be bribed or eliminated."

Gustav nodded, "Bribe him and he'll arrest you and bring the whole Legion upon your organization. Eliminate him and every man associated with the Envoy will fall prey to their scrutiny. He's even more troublesome now that he's been promoted to Capitano.' then resting his head lower, 'his reach is even greater now than ever."

Lawrence sympathized somewhat to his frustrations, that is, as far as his disdain for the tribunal would allow (which was a shallow portion indeed), then proposed, "I know enough about things on your end but perhaps the answers don't lie here you may need to expand your resources."  
Jurgen's head twitched right as Gustav's lifted, "How so?"

He leaned forward with a bout of enthusiasm and just enough secrecy for him to want to hear more and comply, "First I need to know everything there is to know about Dehlmare and Talhari."

…

Hours passed into the early evening before Lawrence was able to retire from his sessions of; study, stretching, pacing and pondering. He returned to Gustav and Jurgen and requested everyone else vacate save those two to prevent his plan from entering the mind of the non essential man who could more easily be interrogated.

"Well Mr. Lawrence,' started Gustav with a hand ready to call for his execution at the slightest detail to be construed as betrayal, 'I'm listening."

"To start,' Lawrence began with unwavering confidence, 'the first plan on the offensive is to not gain control from the Legion economically but politically."

"Go on."

"The reason the Legion has been granted so much control over Dehlmare was due to the fact that the Duke was careless enough to get caught smuggling and drug dealing, which in turn has soured the view the people and Council of Nine had towards the Envoy. This damage needs to be repaired and the best way to start is by having the Duke resign."

Gustav nearly laughed, "He is one of the most powerful men in Dehlmare, even the Council cannot make that happen."

"Is he not more or a less a servant of the church?"

"Indeed he is."

"Is it not the duty of a servant to fulfill the commands of his master?"

This is when Lawrence's credibility caused the man to sit further erect, "Have him removed by the church?"

"Yes, you see, the church's image has been tarnished also. Convincing them to pressure him out of office wouldn't be an issue."

"But he still can chose his own successor, and he will most likely select one in line with his character whom the people will equally distrust as well."

"Again, have the church pressure his decision."

"But with who?"

Lawrence pointed a finger non directly towards Gustav who became all the more intrigued when he heard him say, "One of your own."

There was a pulse of energy that buzzed through the room.

Lawrence quickly followed up to maintain steam, "I know how the Tribunal works. You have a foot in every door and a hand in every pocket and a mouth to every ear. Surely you have subordinates loyal to you within the ranks of the parish do you not?"

"True, in fact as you speak a few names come to mind who can be made eligible for the office as long as the proper steps are taken."

"Whomever you pick,' warned Lawrence, 'he must be able to convince the town that he is better than the last Duke if you are to rebuild trust." after Gustav concurred with an assenting chin Lawrence went on, "After that, you will need one of your own to get into the offices of the Council of Nine. But he needs to be an everyman, one whose simple history would make him ideally relatable. Say, one of your gords?"

Gustav's eyebrows lit up as if by a spark, "Yes, a hardworking foreigner able to advance from the dockyards to the courtyards would inspire many a laborer."

"And even promote the idea that the Envoy is the guild of opportunity for those of humble beginnings." added Lawrence.

"From there he can influence trade policies in my favor…" he mused while stroking his bulbous chin.

"You see what we are doing here?' inquired Lawrence as an insight to more devious schemes, 'the Starboard Emporium no longer pressures the establishment, it _becomes_ the establishment."

Jurgen then spoke with inquiries of his own, "If we are willing to be this radical, why not put Gustav in one of those positions himself?"

Lawrence was quick to refute with reason, "Because it would be way too suspicious for a company like the Starboard Emporium, who has suffered from the policies of the Marquis the most, to suddenly thrust its chief executive into a position where he can undo that."

Jurgen pondered then remained silent.

"Is that all?" asked Gustav in hopes it was not so.

"No, now that we have succeeded in restoring the image of the Royal Envoy we must destroy the image of the Grand Legion."

The countenance of Gustav livened up a bit upon hearing this reform, "I'm listening.

"First we start by allowing the Legion to carry on as is. You said the price of medication will go up due to the contraband mandate and that the civil governments discord only permits them to mint new coins for the time being. Ultimately, supply and demand of medicine will put a strain on the trade and in order to be compensated for minting gold the interest will be paid by retaining the sum required. You can use this to start spreading rumors about the Grand Legion.

Such as, that they are withholding the medicine while raising the market and taking coins out of the welfare system."

Gustav raised his hand, "However, any rational person could look at that and know it is normal for such an occurrence given the situation. Plus people do not like being lied to even if it is against their enemies."

Lawrence reassured him, "That is why we are playing to man's irrationality. The goal of this rumor is to make the Legion look greedy. All the evidence needed to support that claim is expensive medication in short supply and a smaller deposit into the welfare system. The people will fill in the blanks so long as they don't have all the information."

Gustav leaned back as if resigned, "Well…the spreading of misinformation is the most effective weapon in the battle of politics."

"Most _common_, not 'effective." corrected Lawrence.

"And your idea of effectiveness then." replied Gustav slightly irritated.

"Bold fabrications almost impossible to refute."

"Carry on."

"Next we're going to frame the Grand Legion of a crime, namely sabotage. And we do it by hiring a third party."

"How so? I cannot think of a saboteur capable enough to convince the people they are crooks."  
"This operations does not occur on land but by sea using privateers."

Gustav grunted with surprise enabling Lawrence to continue on.

"We hire a ship of privateers under the guise as an agent of the Legion and simply give them a contract and advanced payment forged with the signet of the Marquis. The contract will hire them to pillage Royal Envoy merchant vessels. They'll surely get caught and, like any scoundrel with no loyalty, will divulge the nature behind their actions."

"The forged contract and gold will be the evidence that it was in fact the Marquis who hired them to attack Envoy vessels." said Gustav mostly to himself while leaning on his chin.

"Yes,' said Lawrence, 'once indicted and placed under investigation the Council of Nine will have no choice but to revoke the Legion's oversea trading agreements with Talhari. When that happens your gord on the inside can sway balance of power into your favor allowing the Starboard Emporium to have exclusive rights to the industry and from their monopolies the overseas market."

Jurgen lightly clapped his hands, "Bravo, a stunning display of your wit and intellect Mr. Lawrence. However there is but one set back, we cannot lift up this operation without the funding for it."

Lawrence maintained the simple approach, "All this that we've talked about was part one of the master plan, gaining power politically. We now must move onto the second part, gaining power financially."

"What are your ideas?"

"I understand that the Envoy is the only establishment that permits brothels and prostitution, what normally holds business back is that the church can't support the practice and many people are god fearing and fear to enjoy themselves. There is a loop hole to get the church's support and to put people's soul's at ease. There is a donation process known as tithe, if you pay the church a tithe on the income made from brothel's they'll be more likely to assist. Once on their good side pitch to them this practice; sins can be forgiven if one offers penance, and penance now includes offering coin."

Gustav flexed an eyebrow, "You mean sell forgiveness?"

"Yes, if a god fearing man were able pay the church for forgiveness for indulgence imagine the profits both brothel and cathedral would bring in."

"And how can anyone be guilty in the eyes of God if they've purchased absolution from their sins?" added Jurgen who seemed just as eager to see this scheme function perfectly.

"With a heavier backing from the church,' continued Lawrence, 'you'll have more opportunity to manufacture and distribute nimbus powder on their behalf for a much cheaper price than the Legion causing hordes to flood to you."

Gustav's face gleamed with heinous satisfaction, "And after I have monopolized all of Dehlmare, what next?"

"Using your slaves to monopolize the oversea market."

Appearing more intrigued, Gustav leaned forward.

"The biggest obstacle is getting control of Talhari's spice and gold trade, even with the Eastern Connection on your side it's too much of an investment to start there so we start small. Next to Talhari is a small hamlet that makes its living off selling spice and gold from their local resources, however they lack the manpower to mass produce enough to compete with Talhari. What you're going to do is offer them a trading deal, one too good for them to ignore, one that, should they fail their end of the bargain means dire consequences."

"Go on."

"What you'll do with the hamlet is set up trade agreements to purchase their spice at double the cost then turn around and sell it for half the cost here."

Gustav sputtered with disbelief, "Are you insane?! We'll surely go bankrupt."

Lawrence let his calmness prevail his demeanor, "This doesn't go on indefinitely, you're building intense competition with the legion forcing them to lower their prices to match yours thus putting them on your level. You see when competition happens, business goes up but profits come down. Once you and the Legion are neck and neck you will go to your supplier who has now been trapped into greater demands by your contract and say that you will now purchase at lower than regular cost."

"But we'll never get a profit from that, in fact they wouldn't be able to pay us back to end the contract."

"Exactly that's why instead of taking their money, you will seize their assets you'll have established as collateral."  
"Their village and farms?" inquired Gustav with a ray of hope glimmering in his sinister eye.

"Correct, you will have the legal right to seize their mines and farms and then will be able to divert your slaves to labor there thus making your spice and gold investments virtually dirt cheap. The profits you will make off of this practice will give you the leverage needed to start buying out other suppliers in Talhari until the Tribunal owns the entire eastern trade."

Jurgen made an addendum to better sway his comrade, "From there it will be impossible for the Council of Nine to revoke trade agreements and the Legion will be far too weak to be much of an issue. You may even be able to absolve it all and own all of Dehlmare."

Gustav let his thumb make passes under his fat chin, "Well gentlemen, I am convinced this all can be done and should this all be successful the Tribunal will become more powerful than ever and all debts shall be forgiven." said he looking to Jurgen.

"Now,' he continued while arising, 'I don't know about you but I feel we all deserve to be refreshed and entertained, and the night is younger still. You shall all be treated at a place of my choosing."

He went around the desk to shake Lawrence's hand then gave Jurgen a half embrace while whispering into his ear, "Praise be to my master."

* * *

The clock was winding down closer to seven by the time Lawrence's meeting was adjourned, which brought a small relief to him in the same way a cool breeze eases the turmoil of the laborer in the vineyard. He had hopes to retire to an inn pre selected for him but was ushered over to the other side of town, to where any married man dare not go.

He was taken to the brothels.

Filled with dread he was forced to sit next to his wardens in the pit of debauchery were he had to endure all temptation assail his virtuous spirit. Though he was once a young man and he did attempt slake the curiosities of his flesh while in his youth, this den returned none of those vain excitements, instead he could only think of what Holo would think of him should she witness this predicament.

The patrons were gathered all about which included Andre and the bound up Vladislav who resigned upon sofas and easy chairs with a harlot to each side. Lawrence forced his eyes down for some of these courtesans purposefully held their dresses low to bare their chests while others went as far as to hike their split skirts so it exposed the anterior of their loins. For they were the strongest lures they had.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself Mr. Lawrence." came the voice of Gustav who stood before him.

Following with his eyes from the shoes to his face Lawrence answered, "I was rather hoping to get an early night."

"Oh but the night is young enough." said he while using his hand to present the fruits of the flesh in the lobby.

Lawrence looked him in the face and attempted to say with unrelenting vigor, "Mr. Bihari, I'm a married man."

"Suit yourself." said he while turning away and pulling a working girl away to be his concubine.

Jurgen sat next to him, legs crossed and looking down on him with his eye. He then leaned over to Cyrus, whispered something to him and handed off a pouch of coins. Cyrus then excused himself with Lawrence watching. Cyrus approached a courtesan who, by a well endowed figure, was the most sought after of them all, was given the bag of money and directed over to Lawrence's direction.

The fair maiden made her approach to Lawrence who was communicating with his rigid body that he would not accept her advances. Yet she did as requested and made her first enticing attempt by simply standing before him enthusiastically.

"Hello stranger, my name is Lotus." she started but Lawrence kept his eyes down.

She lowered her face towards his, "I am told you are far away from home and are in dire need of company. I can provide."

Her lure was cast again but to no avail.

Jurgen, who was observing the whole exchange said, "Come now Mr. Lawrence, you have done well today and are being rewarded with an all expenses paid retreat of leisure."

"Tis' true,' added Lotus, 'I have been paid in advance and am obligated to fulfill your every need."

She then sat upon his knew which caused him to jerk as if wrung by lightning and nearly pushed her off. She gasped and nearly fell but Lawrence, by account of good nature, caught her by the shoulders.

"There's no reason to fuss!" she protested.

"Mr. Lawrence…' Jurgen interrupted with a terrifying look in his eye, 'you are insulting her and am embarrassing me."

Lotus then offered, "Perhaps we can go someplace private?"

"Oh yes…' said Jurgen peering into Lawrence's soul, '…in fact I insist."

Lawrence looked as if to plea but he knew all too well that it was De Buhr's aim to destroy him morally and he could not afford to foil his master plan now. Therefore, with the same crises of soul Peter had when thrice denying his Master, he retreated up stairs to a private room.

No sooner than when the door had shut behind them that Lotus pulled him to the bed and sat upon the mattress. He quickly arose; while breaking free he pled, "Please Miss Lotus, I'm sure you're nice and good at what you do but I cannot do this!"

"But why? I'm the most sought after woman on this side of the coast, how can you deny my beauty? Or am I not beautiful enough for you?"

Lawrence cocked his head, "You are plenty beautiful."

Lotus pondered a moment then suddenly was hit with an epiphany, "Oh I see what may be the problem."

"You do?" Lawrence asked with unease.

"This is a town of sailors, I'm sure we can find you man willing to…you know…"

"Wait…' Lawrence paused, 'What?! No! That's not it at all, I'm a married man!"

"Hasn't stopped me before." her replies were as encouraging as they were quick. He could not have been the first married man she had pulled into the depths of adultery.

"Whoever she is…' started Lawrence, 'She's lucky to have you. But tonight,' she got on her knees atop the bed, 'I'll make you luckier than anyone could ever be."

With that said she liberated her body from her dress causing Lawrence's head to sharply turn away.

"Please…don't make me do this." said he as a man who suffered from the impasse of loyalty and aroused faculties.

Lotus heeded him not but instead got to her feet, grabbed him by the shoulders with remarkable strength beyond her caliber, forced him onto the bed and straddled over him. She nuzzled her face into his rigid cheeks then drew the line when she attempted to undo the buttons of his vest. Realizing the only way to keep himself chaste he grabbed her wrists and began to resist.

"Don't!"

They struggled with Lawrence curtailing his strength to one level above her resistance. She was about to scream if not for a calamity muffling outside the door. Someone was coming up the stairs with vigorous haste with another chasing after him.

"Don't open that door, I beseech you!" was heard the voice of Gustav.

But alas the door swung ajar with no respect to that request showing Lemonte standing in the doorway gazing at Lawrence.

"I'm sorry Monsieur Lawrence,' said the Capitano of the Grand Legion, 'I must detain and take you away at the moment."  
There was an awkward pause.

"As in arrest me?' Lawrence spoke dumbfounded like, then exclaimed with relief and excitement that took the cavalier off guard, 'You're taking me away; oh thank God!"

He happily shifted from under the lass to eject himself from off the bed causing her to nearly fall off, "Hey!"

Lawrence rushed to the cavalier with his wrists presented to be bound, "Yes you may take me away at your earliest convenience!"

Lemonte's brow curled as his eyes gazed upon his willing hands then to the wench who was dressing herself with fury. Putting his hands down he assured, "That shan't be necessary _Monsieur_, I don't restrain the willing. Please come with me." he then turned and went the way he came expecting Lawrence to follow.

Lawrence moved past Gustav who had all the eternal rage of hellfire in his eyes who, as he passed, went into the room and slammed the door. Lawrence stayed a step to listen, then to his astounded horror, heard the sickening slap of a man's hand striking a woman's cheek. He heard Lotus' fall to the floor and weep low enough to not be heard, such are the terrible conditionings of the frequently abused.

Lawrence kept close to Lemonte as they passed through the brothel, avoiding the eyes of Jurgen and Cyrus as he clung to this man he entrusted his life with.

When alas exposed to twilight and fresh air Lawrence suddenly realized something he overlooked during the commotion, "By the way Captain, what am I being arrested for?"

"Not 'arrested,' corrected Lemonte, 'Detained."

"What am I being detained for?"

"During the excitement upon your arrival this morning I made an oversight, _Monsieur_ Bihari was to also provide a certificate of commerce that validates your post as a financial advisor under his banner."

Lawrence thought on this a moment then asked to be certain, "What, are these certificates of commerce like passports for outsiders to work for the Envoy?"

"That is the best simplification. There is much corruption within this city and we combat it by scrutinizing all that pass through here be it merchandise or merchandiser."

"So because Gustav lacks the proof of me being a financial advisor hired by him I am to be detained?"

"That is the case _Monsieur_."

Never had such a circumstance filled Lawrence with as much joy and dread. Though separated he was from his captors, who knew how they might deal with him while in the hands of their enemies.

As they made it to the detention center swarming with cavaliers Lawrence asked, "How long do you plan on holding me?"

While opening the door to admit them Lemonte said while giving the lead to Lawrence, "I will repeat to you what I have said to _Monsieur_ Bihari, if you provide the certificate of commerce you will be released as early as it is in my hands. If he fails to so within a week you will be sent back to wherever you came and barred from rendering any assistance to the Starboard Emporium or any guild under the Envoy banner for that matter."

As Lawrence was shown the way he was amazed when taken to the upper wing where two cavaliers stood watch by a door who parted shoulders mechanically when Lemonte approached. The door was opened for Lawrence and to his astonishment he was to be held in a well furnished, properly kept chamber with Matthias already sitting in an easy chair on the other side.

"Why not a jail cell?" he thought aloud.

"Because Mr. Lawrence, the violation was committed by _Monsieur_ Bihari, not you. You are not being arrested therefore you are not a prisoner."

The thoughts of controversy flew through Lawrence's brain like a stream but he let it be bygone.

"I take it Matthias was to have a document proving his security detail?"

"That is correct."

Before Lemonte shut the door Lawrence turned to him and asked in all earnestness, "You seem like an admirable guard, why not join the Envoy to bring the same discipline to them? After all they seem to be in the most need of it."

Lemonte gave his inquiry an honest salute then replied, "There could be benefits to that, however each soldier loves his uniform the best."

Lemonte then made to depart after informing his two guards the procedures and restrictions regarding the accommodations and surveillance of their detainees. As he proceeded down the hall Lawrence felt the inclination to call upon him one last time.

"Captain!"

Lemonte turned elegantly on his heel with one hand resting upon his pommel.

"The harlot Lotus working at the lowly sailor, I have reason to believe she is being abused by her employer. I'm sure that violates Dehlmare's many laws regarding civil conduct."

Lemonte nodded but then spoke with a tone that lowered Lawrence's heart, "I am aware of _Monsieur_ Bihari's conduct towards his workers of the female class. Yet there are also many regulations that prevent the cavaliers from simply marching into a burlesque house. _Mademoiselle_ Lotus can either seek new employment at another whorehouse, change occupations entirely and work under the Legion, for prostitution is illegal in our guild, or take her grievance up with the Vicars."

Lawrence knew none of these options where realistic or viable.

"At the end of the day there is only so much a capitano can do."

Lemonte departed without saying another word more.

Lawrence retired to his chamber, sat on his bed, put his head in his hands contemplated with contentious lament all the foulness he was forced to conduct and participate in order to sell his scheme.

* * *

**Vermili Facts**

**(I've decided to these at the end of chapters if I chose)**

**-The concept of the gord actually is based on a real stereotype 'The Swede.' Basically a swede was your big strong dumb guy who could foot heavy lifting. Even today we have tools named after this, one being called 'the swede bar.' And yes, Andre is a reference to Andre the Giant. Vladmir and Vladislav are based on the Golokov brothers who starred on the old Soviet Hockey team in 1980. **

**-The structure of Dehlmare is based on The Musketeers vs the Cardinals in Alexandre Dumas' The three Musketeers with Lemonte as the type of love letter to D'artagnan, Aramis, Athos and Porthos. **

**-What I wanted different for the fencing duel is to show how quick and lethal an actual fencing duel can be. Unlike movies, a skilled fencer could fell an opponent in as little as one move. The rapier and fencing swords where designed to make quick pokes in lethal areas such as between the ribs and into the chest cavity. And no, a chest wound is not always lethal it all depends on the severity. In Vladmir's case his lung was punctured but his other lung and heart were not injured, also when a lung is pierced it doesn't 'fill with blood til you drown' it can still draw in air into the uninjured parts the bigger risk is air escaping into the chest cavity and building up pressure until it collapses the lung and jives with the heart's position. Vladmir though had an open chest wound so any air escaping out the lung with escape out the hole. It's a painful recovery but it was possible to recover from those back then. **

**-The plan Lawrence presented to Gustav was based on actual trading schemes in the past, particularly how the Dutch monopolized the eastern trade. They intentionally made deals with small villages that set them up to fail so they could take it over then move their slaves there (talk about brutal) This was not intended to condemn the Eastern Trade as a whole but to condemn the evil actions of those who sought only power and control through it.**

**-The selling forgiveness point was also a real church practice, where one could pay to receive forgiveness for sins they have (or yet to have) committed. This of course was one of the many reasons that sparked the reformation movement namely among protestants. If you think that practice was corrupt and against the will of God, well so did the reformers. **

**-The methods Lawrence was implying to destroy the image of the Grand Legion are based on real radical practices utilized by radicals. The man who wrote the rule books on modern radicalism was named Saul David Alinsky an activist during the 60's who wrote the Books Rules and Revile for Radicals. In them he described how radicals effectively pressure the ****establishment to gain power and control control over society. He knew and admitted the methods were corrupt but in his mind they were necessary evils to go out and get corrupt for your cause. Me personally I could never bring myself to follow his instructions to gain influence for in my opinion, if you use treachery to combat your oppressor, you are the oppressor. **

**-That's it for now, stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	5. Wolf in the Badlands

**AN: Alright I'm back, this chapter is pretty long but has some good character moments. They're broken down for easier reading, look forward to any and all R&R!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Wolf in the Badlands**

_I_

_Plundering the Plunderers_

Gathered round a campfire, when the world was shrouded in the thickest dark the night could muster, was a small cluster of bandits each garbed in whatever assortment they picked off their victims. One approached with a bloodstained coin purse in his possession who counted aloud in stride.

Sitting upon an empty stump he said with estranged glee to his cohorts, "Barely enough for decent eat 'n' drink."

"Stow the belly aching.' reprimanded one, 'if you want more fare then aim bigger than weary travelers."

Tying off the pouch he replied, "Sure I'll aim bigger, so long you ain't too yellow to try."

The offended rose to his feet whilst declaring, "I'm 'bout as yellow as you are smart!"

Erecting himself, the other propped himself up while simultaneously insulting the other, "Then I must be pretty smart!"

One shoved which was answered by another until one of them suddenly fell into his arms with a sickening grunt. An arrow was firmly planted in his backside.

Dropping the body and drawing his sword the remainder quickly called the other to arms for they were being besieged from beyond. Scrambling to their feet and bursting through tarps the bandits of the camp arrived to find the one issuing the warning fall prey to another projectile finding its mark between his eyes.

Frantically casting their eyes in all directions save, ironically, the direction the bolt came from, the bandits began making wild accusations regarding its origins. A few made ready to return the ambush with arrows of their own but were thwarted by Agatha revealing herself through the foliage procuring her loaded crossbow and launching it as soon as her presence was realized.

Quickly she slung it back and drew her cutlass to contend with those choosing to advance on her. The first to fall was in the front line, not by sword but by bolt that came from Nikiski who came to duel by her side.

Their metals sparred in rapid procession but a handful of lowly bandits were of little challenge to the formidable duo who cut them down with precise jabs and thrusts. As Agatha and Nikiski were sheathing their blades they were suddenly caught off guard by one remaining bowman with his fellow bandit in tow with his arrow already knocked.

Their saving grace came in the form of Kaytaff who bound from the greenery, clamped onto the bowman's arm pulling him down. Ranger emerged from the flank, removed the arm of the swordsman and plunged him through the chest then viscously came around and liberated the head from off the shoulders of the bowman.

When the excitement had run its course Ranger wiped the back of his blade through the crease of his elbow and said when retiring it, "Keep your wits about you."

Agatha huffed slightly then went her own way. Ranger returned from whence he came and was soon found opposite the wagon which had Jethro and Ottis nearby with the former upholding a foul disposition.

Ranger took note of it as he walked towards the rear and made a passive slight as he passed by, "You are free to us assist if it so pleases you."

Jethro took in a harsh sniff then spat on the ground and departed without saying a word.

He came to the tail gate of which Emilio was tethered to with a rather inconsiderate amount of slack for the lad. He only acknowledged the boy with that typical hardness of the eye he harnessed at all times then took a step up to get into the bed.

As soon as his hand parted the canvas he was met with the image of Doc quickly coming to to snatch it back to the closed position. As Ranger leapt back he only caught a glimpse of Holo sitting mid ledge who appeared to be bare from the waist up.

Once the tarp was closed Doc's voice could be heard coming harshly through it, "New rule; if you cannot see both me and a member of this group and also find that the wagon bonnet is closed, don't open it!"

He overheard Holo say quietly, "Tis' fine, I do not mind."

"Well I do." replied Doc upholding the atmosphere.

At length Doc emerged and dropped down leaving Holo behind to her privacy. Wiping his hands with a towel he glared at Ranger who said with equal indifference, "Exactly how long does it take for a woman to get dressed and what need has she of a physician to do it?"

Grinding his hands against the cloth Doc replied while throwing it over his shoulder when finished, "I was applying a balm."

"For what purpose?" he said more annoyed than usual.

"If you pulled a wagon by your mouth for over day would your muscles not show any grievance?"

"Is she hurt?" asked Ranger with a sudden spark of concern that Holo secretly admired.

"Not really, but her jaw and shoulder have become exceedingly sore and she needs to rest up. Even a wolf god has her limits."

The voice of Emilio cut in, "If there is anything I can do to help her…"

Ranger raised a finger towards him, "Your silence is adequate enough."

A notable phsaw from Holo escaped the threshold of the bonnet. Ranger ignored her and informed, "I came to say that the raiding of the camp is underway and all heads are in good health."

Doc nodded and sighed, "Good to hear."

Ranger receded from view leaving the three as they were. Doc proceeded to wash his hands with Emilio watching him innocently, then to his surprise the bare arms of Holo draped around his shoulders from behind and gripped him tightly. He could smell the balm at its strongest from that proximity while Holo said most sorrowfully, "I am so sorry he mistreats you…' then began to sob, '…but you are so sweet and kind to want to help me!"

The bashful young man stood tensely while turning his head to Doc with a look that cried for both assistance and answers to this outburst.

Doc winced then informed with uneasy care, "Sometimes when women are with child…their emotions tend to swing a little more wildly than normal."

Holo overheard it and became more distraught, "I am so sorry! This must be so terrible for you! You must think me a terrible burde-e-en!"

She wept uncontrollably against his shoulder who looked to Doc while begging with his eyes on what he should do next.

Doc timidly raised his hand, "You're doing good, just provide emotional support. Anyway I need to check on something." then abandoned the youth to this awkward state.

Emilio, with the timidness of a frightened kitten, raised his hands to lightly pat Holo's while soothing with the utmost insecurity, "Um…there…there…"

Her body shuddered, "I will try…If there is anything I can do to repay your kindness I will do it."  
Emilio then said, out of concern for his comfort, "If you are going to hug me, could you…perhaps…put a shirt on?"

He learned by the frailties of ignorance that this was not the correct response as Holo tore herself from his back and howled in anguish, "How could I be so inconsiderate?"

"Holo I'm not mad or anything." the boy pled in desperate hopes to amend her grief.

"Tis' not you!' she wailed, 'First I flipped the sled, second I become too sore to assist in the raid and now I have unknowingly seduced you. I cannot do anything right!" he suddenly heard her feet stamp against the bed before collapsing in despair.

Emilio at this point saw the wisdom in Ranger's words and chose to be silent.

As Ranger was assuming the trail leading back to the others he suddenly felt an odd acute surge of over encumbrance afflict his being by which he detoured towards the forrest fence adorning the bank and resigned his burden upon a nearby tree. None of this was done in total silence as sharp wheezing escaped his lips.

"Are you alright?"

He erected his figure immediately out of fear of any weakness being perceived by others then relaxed when realizing it was Doc of whom he could confide in.

"I am well enough." he muttered in a shielding tone that guarded his ego.

"Were you injured?"

"No." he replied abruptly while turning more of his back towards him.

"You look very worse for wear." Doc warned.

With an uproar of impatience Ranger recalled, "The days have been long and the weeks strenuous. That is all."

"How much rest have you gotten in the last few days?" inquired Doc with that demanding concern a physician undertakes regarding the well fare of his fellow man.

"I will rest when time permits." growled the masked man who made an attempt to move away.

Doc folded his arms and called out to him bravely, "It's that ability you have isn't it?"

Ranger came to a wobbling stop, and though he did not turn his head, Doc knew he seized his attention.

"Holo told me what happened when you used it. The burning ember you called it? You haven't recovered from it have you?"

Ranger turned his head somewhat, "Whatever uniqueness is granted by my heritage, it is none of your concern."

"It is my concern.' Doc corrected quickly, 'my duty to this band is to ensure everyone's health is up to par for whatever may lie ahead. And I have sworn an oath to uphold that role to the letter. I can help you, we all can help you. Just reach out."

There was a pause between the dark space that conjoined them. It was as if his soul yearned for what was offered but his mind forbade it.

"What can you do for me?" he ridiculed.

Doc withdrew his spectacles, "I may not know everything about everyone; However I know when a man is pushed beyond his limit and is too exhausted to carry on much further. You can educate me about your peculiarities, all life stems from the same creator, perhaps I can find a remedy to meet your needs." the man was nearly pleading at this point.

Ranger in that moment was pricked in the heart, for he rarely was dealt that magnitude of compassion, however to him a prick was a prick regardless of its source, "It matters not,' he said sorrowfully, 'my kind is nearly extinct anyway."

He departed without saying another word more.

Doc continued to chew on an earpiece as he observed the receding frame of the wayfaring warrior. He heaved a sigh of discontent and went his way.

Ranger was seen coming back to the bandit camp to where he witnessed Agatha, Nikiski and Ottis scavenging for supplies but took a sour note at Jethro who was leaned against a tree observing his comrades bitterly.

"It is one thing to not raise blade in aid of your companions,' rebuked Ranger as he walked past, head sternly upon him, 'but do you so consider yourself above the menial labor of scavenging alongside them as well?"

Jethro spat a heavy wad on to the ground and replied with equal tension, "Only when it is dishonorable."

Agatha's face, adorning a disgruntled concerning look, lifted from her duties and honed in on the conversation.

"For your sake,' said Ranger subtly, 'explain yourself."

Jethro sniffed aggressively then resumed, "I understand we are need of money and supplies; but raiding and pillaging to earn our bread?"

Ranger was in near disbelief, "The men who lay dead before you have fallen prey to the very methods they employed to obtain their riches. You act as if we slaughtered innocents."

"I know well the nature of these men, but how are we to fight off evil if we behave evil?"

A hot gust of wind pushed out Ranger's throat, "The merciless obtain no mercy, the bloodletting are drunken with their own blood and the evil doers have that very evil returned upon them. These fates are expressed by the very God you profess to believe in. Who sent his fires and armies upon entire cities for the sake of his people."

Jethro took offense, "None of us here are equal to God."

Agatha jumped in as one would to barricade two opposing armies, "Mr. McKinley if there is a more honorable way to provide for the group what have ye in mind?"

Easing up slightly the one eyed man condoned this endorsement, "If the information about Badorenz is correct then there must be plenty of bounties posted in the nearby town. We can grab and fulfill a few contracts and get paid that way. Who knows we may even come across Durango in the process."

"Not a bad course." concurred Agatha.

"If being contractually obligated to kill bandits eases your conscience, then by all means." muttered Ranger as he walked away to look for whatever would suit his fancy.

Jethro took a moment to let the justice of the reproach pass through his heart then asked of Agatha, "Would you care to come with me Mrs. McDubland?"

She was a bit stymied by his offer then looked to Nikiski who issued a look to her as if to say he would manage on his own without her in which she agreed, but slightly baffled by the invitation.

_II_

_A Walk Below Starlight_

Though the heavy night drew its mantle over the sky, the evening seemed oddly young for Jethro and Agatha. Perhaps it was because they assigned for themselves a new task to be undertaken, or that it was just the two of them together or that the day's recent activities left them charged with a more lively gusto that overtakes our desires rest. Whatever it was, the hour that adorned the road they partook was not daunting in the slightest.

The truth of these conditions dwelt within their interactions as they ventured. Despite all the hardships endured thus far the man and woman found a way to fill the hour with gaiety. At times Agatha had forgotten herself in the lighthearted conversations she shared with Jethro. It was not until she had come to and allowed a quick recess between them she finally stated.

"Oh Mr. McKinley, ye be a more sharper flint than me realized!"

He responded after he allowed his chortling to come to close, "If you enjoyed this, you should see it when I get some alcohol in me. I remember this one time me and Gowda…" he let out a pause as if his memory were but naught a song in the distant wind.

Agatha shifted tones immediately, "I know it's been a couple of days but; how've ye been since her passing?"

Jethro looked up to the tree lantern they stood below and said with an effort to subdue his more irate emotions, "I try not to think about it, and when I do I remind myself to move on."

Agatha nodded and said in congruence, "I remember the way I felt when me son died."

Jethro shot his face down to her stunned, "I thought he was only taken from you at birth, you never said he died."

"True, I don't know what really became of him but I have come to assume so to ease my worrying."

Jethro nodded then asked cautiously, "Mrs. McDubland I'm sorry to ask but what exactly was your situation?"

Agatha let a smile tinge on the corner of her lip, "The story is nothing unique to me, hundreds of poor lasses got what I got in Dehlmare."

She took a note of silence while Jethro said affectionately, "I'm listening."

"Me dad was a sailor who met his fate at sea forcing me mum into the brothels. Her social contributions made her sick and forced her into an early grave when I was but fourteen. When I was taken into the orphanage the priest who was in charge found it profitable to sell my body like me mum. Of course I was at that age when my loins began to bloom and I brought forth a baby boy."

She looked down with tender melancholy, "Though my time with him was short, and though he was sired illegitimately, I loved and always will love him unconditionally. Because he was mine…"

"A mother's love is what you had." commented Jethro.

"Aye,' concurred Agatha who looked up to the stars, 'but a mother I was not to be. The priest ordered my baby to be ripped from my arms and began carving up me soft spots so that I would never bear another child again. And it worked."

Her lip trembled and she sought to hide her face from him. For no man could be allowed to see such vulnerability from her.

Jethro decided to cut it there, "I remember that's when Nikiski saved you, in fact I remember that's how you met, but why do you assume your boy is dead?

"Because,' replied Agatha after taking in a long breath, 'The children of whores go to the very orphanage I lived in. I remember, aside from a few exceptions, the wee ones rarely survived."

"That still doesn't mean…"

Agatha turned to him, her face burning, "Me and Nikiski searched and searched for him when I recovered. We never found him. Those without parents in Dehlmare are without rights to a decent burial ground. They get thrown into the ocean to become food for the guppies. That's why we never found him!"

Jethro took a moment then said in such a sweet tone it nearly caused her to collapse, "You never saw, you never heard, you never knew. There's still hope. Even after ten years, there's still hope."

Agatha trembled and held her hand to her mouth.

"I bet he's strong, just like his mother."

Wiping her eyes she replied with some animosity, "And his mother was no better than her own."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Why do say that? Because you were forced into lechery like her?"

"Because I was not around when he needed me most, just like how she was not there when I needed her most!"

Once more Jethro said in that same tone that announces sincerity, "I'm listening."

Painfully she confessed, "Me mum was spending more of her time with hard up sailors than with her own daughter. I learned to cook, sew and wash on my own. I tucked myself in most nights, I told bedtime stories to me self!"

She turned towards him while slapping her palm with the back of her hand, "I celebrated many birthdays, great birthdays, without her. And when my body began transitioning to womanhood I learned how to ease the pain, hide the mess and keep it clean all without her! And when she left me for good, it made no difference, I made it without her help, TO HELL WITH HER!"

Her final word echoed profoundly among the leaves until its utterance fell silent giving way to the crickets. After a long pause between them Jethro walked up to her and, despite his senses contradicting what he was about to do, he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey…"

She turned her head around revealing streaks of tears running down her eyes while she sniffled.

"I know what it's like to have your family life not turn out as expected. I never thought I'd have to bury my own kin and end up ending my own wife's suffering."

She nodded and began recollecting herself, "I don't mean to lay me burdens on anyone tis' just that; When me dad died, why couldn't we have moved or why couldn't she have just remarried, why did she chose that path, why was the only real parent I ever had have to be stranger? Why did I have to do to my baby that she did to hers…why did I have end up being just like her?"

Jethro understood profoundly the grievances of her heart more fully now and could only resign himself to say, "I don't know."

Finally getting over herself she huffed and said while looking into the firmament above with an odd combination of humor and disdain, "Now here we are, trying to get back for that little lass Holo what we ourselves have lost. A family."

He let a slight laugh pass through his nostrils, "Yes irony can have very cruel senses of humor. But always remember, life can be tough, we can be tougher."

She shook herself off ready to reengage to journey, "Yer right, now let's put that toughness to good use eh?"

"Lead the way."

She took the lead then stopped to say, "Mr. McKinley…."

"Hm?"

She contemplated a good moment then replied, "Thank you."

"Anytime Mrs. McDubland."

She continued on then suddenly wheeled around and threatened, "If you tell anyone ye saw me cry then I'll be carving up yer soft spots too!"

He put his hands up, "Of course."

She turned and made way with more haste.

"Of course."

* * *

T'was not long that Jethro and Agatha came to a modest settlement sitting ideally among the crossroads. They ventured forth keeping an evermore sharper eye upon their surroundings for the spirit that possesses men to do wrong by their fellow man lingered heavily in every walkway and alley. Alas they spied what appeared to be free lancers standing before a bulletin ornamented with parchments depicting the likenesses of the foul individuals who sought absolution from the hands of justice.

Approaching it, Agatha and Jethro began filtering which bounty would be the most logical for them to undertake given their circumstance. One of the bounty hunters they stood by, sorting through a set of posters in his hand, upon accounting their presence from the corner of his eye slightly shifted it towards them and assumed with a rude gruff, "You must be new here…"

Jethro nodded then attempted to quell whatever offense he charged them with, "We're just passing through, thought we could make some coin with the simpler ones."

Stuffing his bounties into a satchel he hissed with but a hint of understanding, "Very well." then departed to his own designs.

Jethro shrugged, "Not the most welcoming bunch are they?"

Agatha, knowing well the mindsets of such professionals, concurred and elucidated, "They be like watchdogs, content with one another so long as the other ones mind their turf. Newbies like us mean less to go around for men like him."

"Well,' groaned Jethro as he stretched then plucked a sheet from off the board, 'don't think they'll mind some of the lowlier ones getting taken."

"What find ye?"

Looking over the details with his remaining eye he informed, "Simple debt collection on a Madrid Dubois. He owes a substantial amount of money to some creditors who either want him to pay with gold…or do time. Whichever he can spare at the moment of contact."

"Is he dangerous?" inquired Agatha knowing well the lengths criminals can go to to avoid incarceration.

He flexed his lip while shaking his head, "No, says he's bit of a crafty talker and will try to get out of it, not too much to worry about."

"Aye, where can we find him?"

Again he extracted the desired information from off the sheet, "Says he spends most his time gambling at 'The Rancid Rider' could go there and ask around if anyone's seen him."

Agatha blew a sharp blade of air from her mouth up to the lock of hair fallen between her eyes then said, "May as well. Don't know about you, but I could use a drink."

* * *

The Rancid Rider was situated in odd appropriation in relation to the rest of the settlement. There, uniquely on the inner outskirts were the town shops, banks and large jailhouses, was the saloon with nearly every window ablaze to accommodate the numerous patrons bustling within and filing in and out the entrance despite the overgrowing night hours.

From there Agatha and Jethro fell in formation with an infiltrating huddle of patrons and soon assumed entrance of the establishment. They took a moment to survey the saloon and found it much more crass than even individuals of their character were accustomed to. There were games at the tables, drinks being consumed, arguments being had, jokes being made and saloon girls making merry with all the boisterous noises mixing into an orgy of melodic malfunction hovering above the atmosphere.

Though the Rider was filled with all walks of life the detection of two outsiders barely went amiss among the dozens of booze dwellers who took note of their entrance then suspiciously went back to their activities. They approached the bar only after getting jostled and cussed at by the prospectors coming behind them.

Once there, the barkeep approached inquiring what ale they desired but instead Jethro retrieved the wanted poster and inquired on that instead.

"Madrid Dubois, have you seen him lately?"

The tapster rolled his eyes at the taboo lack of discretion held by those new to bounty hunting then motioned to the table behind them, "He's playing cards. God be with ya, most likely the money he owes his creditors belongs to someone else now."

They beheld the scoundrel taking seat with five other men, four of which, by their more casual interactions, seemed well acquainted with each other, while the fifth was received much more coldly verifying him to be the lone outsider seemingly playing against Dubois and his gang but also playing in favor of his own interests.

The stranger kept himself well shrouded in a long trail coat and wide brimmed trail men's hat of the line riders. The brim kept his face concealed well enough but still endorsed its silent hostility. All that could be seen was his gruffly chin encased in black stubby facial hair.

The stranger was of no concern to Agatha and Jethro who instead made haste to Dubois who was the object of their presence to begin with. They encroached his presence from the adjacent flank. Jethro addressed him unsure how to proceed, "Madrid Dubois?"

Madrid cast a quick gaze at the duo, looked them over then returned to the game, "Sorry I don't do impressions."

His cohorts chuckled amongst themselves and attempted to ignore them.

Agatha interjected, "You be upside down in your finances, we be here to set things right."

Dubois then craftily shifted tones, "Look, I'm playing a friendly game of hold em' can it wait until I'm done?" he almost sounded genuine if not being forewarned of his craftiness in speech.

"Afraid not, pay the debt or come with us." glared Agatha who took a more assertive stance that brandished both her posture and armaments. Jethro casually did likewise as reinforcement.

The stranger sitting opposite Madrid sighed with impatience and tapped his card hand on the table. Madrid rubbed his chin and pondered then thought of a way to escape his predicament, "Listen here, I know I've done wrong by holding out on the bank and I would love more than anything in this world to repay them!' he pled, his voice melancholy, 'But you see, this man before us invited us to a friendly card game and wouldn't you know it he's nearly cleaned us out! If only we had known he was a hustler!" he moaned.

"You lost fair 'n' square partner.' commented the stranger with a peculiar drawl in his voice that made him sound both intimidating and intimate, 'The lady asked you to pay yer dues, now be a gentlemen."

Dubois fanned himself off with his cards, "Oh you cruel man, where is your compassion? The money I owe is now in your possession, please good sir, be a saint and absolve me of these obligations I beseech you!"

The stranger pounded his fist on the table lightly while raising the brim of his hat revealing his hardened face decorated with dark stubble and a black eye patch over his right socket of which Jethro could relate.

"Listen…_friend_…' he started, struggling to keep his voice calm, 'I ain't in the business of charity. I won your money and none of your problems. These people are your collectors not your therapists. Now make up yer damn mind before I make it up for you."

Madrid, when realizing his usual methods of escaping accountability had flopped, looked to each cohort then proposed, "How 'bout this round we go all in?"

The stranger said nothing but appeared intrigued.

"If I win the next hand, I have the means to pay off my debt, fair 'n' square."

The stranger mulled over it then spat into the spittoon he had near the leg of his chair then stared at his gaming opponent, both elbows folded on the table.

Jethro and Agatha shifted uncomfortably unsure how to proceed.

"All in." said he then cast the mountain of coins before him into the middle of the table.

Madrid nodded with a smiling eye and smirking mouth as he did the same with the other four seeming rather ecstatic to go in. The stranger leaned back nonchalantly and encouraged with his hands, "Your deal."

The cards were taken, shuffled and divvied out to each contestant equaling seven to a hand. Dubois and his cronies examined their set while the stranger lifted the corners of his from off the table to observe their value then let them lay flat again.

Despite the boisterous noises coming from all around the standstill had such a hold on their focus that it all went unperceived. The stranger stayed leaned on one arm upon the table not once breaking his posture. Agatha and Jethro felt the tension keep them locked in the encounter as they waited and waited.

The stranger suddenly slapped his cards down and proclaimed, "Fold."

Dubois and his four friends whooped and hollered then revealed their hands to one another. One by one each one lost to another until it alas came to Dubois who rejoiced to have the winning hand.

Addressing the stranger he said with glee, "Fortune smiles on me today! Better luck next time eh?"

He leaned over to collect his earnings when the stranger stopped him with subtle call of his voice, "Fortune smiles upon you indeed. In fact, I've never seen fortune smile so widely on anyone in a game of hold em'"

Madrid appeared frozen in place, "What can I say, it's how I always get by."

As he proceeded to drag away the winnings the hand of the stranger stretched forth to stop him. Madrid stopped and became apprehensive.

"I couldn't help but notice each of your hands,' said the stranger, 'each of you have an ace."

A bead of sweat began to perspire at his brow.

The stranger flipped up his cards revealing his hand which possessed an ace as well.

"That's five aces.' observed the stranger who pushed out his chair and stood up, "I ain't never seen a deck with five aces before."

"What are you implying?" quivered Madrid whilst his companions appeared ready to abandon him.

"You ain't cheatin' me now are ya boys?" said he with a rapid air as he pulled back the tail of his coat showing a hand upon his brandished crossbow.

Madrid put up his hands, "Whoa, whoa now, give me few moments!"

"I'll give you one, fill it with words."

"C'mon now friend, slipping cards ain't worth a life and you know it. How about you just take the winnings and I'll go with this couple to serve my time."

"We're not a couple!" stammered Agatha reaching an end to her patience.

The stranger seemed content with the proposal.

Madrid stuck forth his hand, "Do we have a deal?" said he in fear of his life knowing whatever mishap that would come upon it would mostly likely be self deserved.

The stranger repurposed his jacket and stuck his hand out to clasp the one before him, "Deal."

As they shook a series of cards loosened and flowed from the stranger's sleeve and collected on the table.

Madrid looked down at them then came up with his face stunned and neutral. He looked upon the swindler with brows creasing into the angles of eternal fury, a temple vein bulging and skin turning as red as an hot iron coal.

The stranger smiled guiltily, "Well…how'd those get there?"

"Why you no good cheatin' prick!" shouted Dubois of the stranger then motivated his penance by introducing his jaw to his virile fist.

The stranger staggered upon alighted feet which quickly reinitiated foundation a few paces away, adjusted his hat, picked up his chair and employed it as the means to deliver his judgment of the man with a greater estimate of opinion. The blow was delivered invoking the curiosity and ire of a grand multitude as Madrid's men arose to enact their vengeance and better the instruction.

"That's five on one!" came a voice belonging to a patron seeking to intervene the odds.

He was intercepted by another who informed harshly, "He's a damn cheat."

"Hands off!" then smote him for the trespass.

And from there, as doth the tiny spark, when in an appropriate environment, becomes an unquenchable fire, so too did this small altercation expand into an all out brawl. Agatha noticed one of Dubois' men attempting to collect the winnings while under cover of mayhem and went to stop him yelling, "That money is for our bounty!"

"Away with you wench!" he protested while imprinting a hand mark across her cheek.

She quickly retorted with a blow of her own with Jethro rushing in, "Don't touch her!"

The entire hostelry looked like a waive of cockroaches scurrying past and over one another. Faces bruised, blood dripped, wood splintered and glass shattered in the conflict!

Many involved themselves for mostly sound reasons save one man who came out the top with a saloon girl behind him and was excited by the chaos. He handed his drink to her and said, "Hold this, be back in a second darling!" He sprinted, withdrew his hat and dove over the railing head over heels into the fray.

"YEE HAW!"

And that concludes Agatha's and Jethro's tale in the Rancid Rider.

When all had gone silent Jethro was seen sitting on the front steps of the Rancid Rider applying a rag soaked in cold water to his bruised and bloodied face. Agatha came out sharing a number of swells and aches on her personage, the three most notable being an eye swollen shut, a hand compressing her ribs and a hobble in her gait.

"Thought I knew a rough town but I gotta say, this one sets the standard methinks." said she attempting not to laugh for fear of it magnifying her afflictions.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a little regard to his own pitiful state, "You took some pretty hard knocks back there."

She flapped her hand, "Bah, not the first sound beating I've got, shan't be the last."

She leaned her back against the mast at the top of the steps and looked up with a reflective wonderment, "Was a wee bit of fun though."

He looked back unable to even attempt to express what he fathomed with words.

Glancing down with her only functional eye she chuckled, "What we talked about earlier, was nice to blow off a little steam yeah?"

He concurred with a restrained chortle, "Suppose it was."

They remained silent for the time being in their ravaged state hearing nothing else but the ballad of crickets chirp from all around.

Finally Jethro asked, "What of the bounty?"

Sighing with pain she said, "Managed to work a deal out. Madrid gave me what he owed from the pile and then some. We'll take it to his debtor tomorrow."

"Why would he gamble with the money he owes to begin with?"

"Because he's deadbeat and a fool." groaned Agatha with the same frustration as he.

Concurring with a salutation of the head he made this addendum, "Speaking of fools, I hope we never come across that stranger again. He practically caused all of this."

Agatha leaned back to her feet, "Well don't get yer hopes up."

"What do you mean?"

"Turns out that stranger is the bounty hunter we be looking for."

"Don't tell me…"

"Afraid so, that be Durango."

_III_

_Beseeching the Hard Hearted_

The next day began at the border of late night and early morning when Holo and company departed camp and made venture through great and spacious fields of golden grass, brown mountains and green underbrushes upon rocky trails that flowed and bifurcated throughout the landscape like withered veins.

The health and well being of said party varied from person to person. Jethro and Agatha were given a parcel amount of Nazani's healing elixirs to dull the edge of their aches and pains to conserve such an invaluable resource while Emilio stumbled over every jot of uneven ground due to the burden such an early rise laid upon his mind. Holo was in the most precarious bind of all for her morning sickness returned with a vengeance forcing her to make many stops and eject the demands of said afflictions.

Emilio being filled with compassion attempted to aid her however Ranger objected harshly to any intervention of his accord sending Holo into an emotional spree invoking fickle arguments among the others. Alas Holo thought of a scheme to enact revenge against the man's overbearing charade with a pleading suggestion that she be carried a good stretch of the way well knowing Ranger would unanimously be elected for the task.

The journey continued on with Ranger reluctantly supporting Holo's weight upon his back with his arms underneath her. Even when the sun peaked over the edge of wilderness and the hands of her grievance struck the final hour and her cup no longer flowed over, she still insisted upon being carried by sustaining the mantle of pretense. The final blow against him was when she leaned her jaw to his shoulder and whispered, "Try not to bounce so much, I think I may vomit again."

Ranger grumbled with more hostility than wit, "And I think my arms may give out at any given moment."

She giggled and reveled in her victory which was not easily obtained from such a man.

They came to a fork where a road sign was established which, after it was examined, gave directions of the place they sought to the left. Holo popped her head over Ranger's shoulder, "Stetson ranch.' she recited, 'you are sure that is where this Durango is?"

"Confirmed by nearly every beer lackey in town." said Agatha, "If he not be chasing bounties he be raising and selling horses a plenty."

"Ah proper horses,' said Holo who slid her eyes over to Ranger, 'however I believe I fancy this steed instead." then patting his head, "Want an apple?"

His arms dropped and his shoulders cast her off.

"Ah!"

Agatha stroked and twirled a lock of hair like a tassel then contemplated out loud to Nikiski, "You think ye'd be warmly received after all these years?"

The man of whom she spoke to motionlessly stared at the sign and made no notion which only Agatha could interoperate, "Well, let's hope it'll be better than you hope."

"Have any of us a clue as to how we are to recruit him?" spurned Ranger knowing bounty hunters seldom come cheap.

Jethro spoke up, "Me and Agatha met him last night, perhaps a fresh familiar face may warm him up."

Ranger motioned to the plethora of bruises marking his face, "It was a good first impression I am sure."

All eyes fell on Nikiski who sighed and looked up.

Agatha translated for him, "Don't think he'd be too keen on seeing him show up unannounced. You see Jurgen did a number on them all, seeing him may bring back unwanted memories and the horror if the man he presumed dead was not."

Their heads shifted to Ranger who spoke, "He quickly resigned from Laterniuex's organization after the ordeal with Jurgen. If he cut all ties with him he most definitely will not wish to cross paths with a direct associate."

Attention was then placed on Holo who muttered, "The only thing I can think is to barter with him, however money may not convince him to join if there is personal trauma involved, and even if it did the amount he would demand would be more than what we have on hand or could imagine."

In a desperate hope they turned to Doc, Ottis and Emilio with Doc putting his hands up, "Don't look at us we don't know him."

After a collected respire the most that could be said came from the lips of Holo, "Well, let us go up and meet him."

The band continued on down the designated road and in ten minutes time there came a large ranch in view with horses, cattle and sheep aplenty walled off within the borders of wooden fences with corrals and stables lined up by a large barn adjacent to a small house. Even from there, as they descended towards it, horsemen could be seen rounding up the livestock with shepherd dogs assisting along side which excited Kaytaff to see.

The smells of manure, hay and straw were faintly strong with Holo plugging her nose well before the others sensed its threshold. They entered through the gate and made their way down the designated straight and happed upon a ranch hand mending a fence that they were about to abide by.

On closer inspection he was a specimen of man rarely seen this far in the heart of the continent. His skin was nearly as dark as his hair was black. The sight of darker skinned people was not an enigma to Holo nor to any other resident of the country, it was simply less common when differing cultures, climate and travel mandates were factors in how citizens of neighboring nations mingled with one another. What made this fellow more unique was his skin was nearly black which was less than uncommon to see. Holo had heard of such peoples but only in anecdotes of a far eastern nation rich with spices whose tribes had labored under such an unrelenting sun it was believed their skin had been burned black passing the trait down to their progenitors.

Yet the only logical conclusion to her on how he came to roost here was that he was a slave.

Sliding a rut in before driving the post down with a mallet he looked up, wiped the sweat from his eyes with his hat and greeted before resuming, "Howdy!"

Though only one word was spoken it could be well foreseen by Holo's judge of character that he had a good heart.

Everyone dinted their eyebrows, "How-what?" stuttered Holo.

"Means 'How ya doing.'" he informed while straining to keep the fence straight.

"Oh…doing well; is this Stetson ranch?"

He chuckled letting the whites of his happy smile to be seen by all, "Sure hope so, or I've been in the wrong place all these years!"

Holo smiled passively, she found peace coming from his sense of humor.

"That is good!' resumed Holo who then spoke with an assumption her knowledge and ignorance decided for her, 'Is your master here?"

A stiff energy hit everyone like a bolt.

The ranch had took no offense, instead he pointed to the heavens and said, "He sure is, all around us, all the time."

A scoffing chuckle oozed out of Jethro's throat as he covered his mouth and tucked his face away. Holo had a shade of red tinge her cheeks as she struggled to stay composed. The ranch hand alas ceased humoring himself and concurred, "You must mean the owner of this fine establishment."

Holo tugged at the nap of her robe, "Yes that is who I meant." she irritatingly attempted to ward off the scrutiny she wrought upon herself.

The man secured the fence, eyed his work, was satisfied, then dismounted from his post and walked up to them while withdrawing his gloves, "What business do you have?"

"Well…' began Holo, 'we need horses."

He opened his arms to the grandeur of the establishment and proclaimed with all the pride that comes with maintaining such a monument to one's work, "I'm sure ma'am we got what you need!"

There was an odd silence that left the man in want of what more could be needed. That is when Agatha came forth, "We also need Durango."

With an entirely different complexion that swept across his face the man nodded and said, "We also got what you need."

He put his hat back on turned around, stopped to see a laborer on horse back trotting around and gave him a loud whistle to come over. The young rider spurred his mount to gallop over then had him cease his stride when at the fence.

The man spoke to him like a superior, "We got about fifty calfs big enough to be grass fed. Round em' up, separate the steers from the heifers, mark em', brand em' and bob off their tails!"

The cowhand acknowledged the demands of he who gave them like an equal, "Yes Mr. Terrance." he turned his horse's head to the pasture, "C'mon Bubba! (Click, Click!)

Horse and rider moved with the swiftness of the wind with the eyes of the troupe falling back upon he who was called Terrance who grinned at them, lifted his eyes and said, "I'll go get the '_master_!'"

As he departed everyone looked at Holo who growled at them, "How was I supposed to know?!"

Jethro finally let loose with a howl of laughter that nearly broke his ribs, "Mrs. Holo! Did you see any chains or task masters? If not Durango is the worst slave owner in history! Ho, Ho, Ha, Ha!"

She looked vulnerable and hurt, "You are teasing me!"

She looked all around for anyone to sympathize with her error but could only find faces struggling to hold in laughter while Jethro took no care at all and made merry with the situation. She looked to Ranger who was silent who could only say, "Slaves typically are in groups while being tightly observed."

"Well I did not know that!" Holo snapped defensively.

This only caused Jethro to laugh harder, "How could you not?! Aren't you some wise hundreds years old wolf?"

She balled up her fist and gnashed her teeth at him, "I am Holo the wise wolf, yet there are many things I know that I do not know and that is what make me wise!"

Agatha waived her hand, "Just drop it lads."

Terrance made his way up the wooden steps of the patio, the old planks of wood naturally giving way as inherited by the thousands of times they had been trod under the foot of man. He entered and found the stranger of the previous night laying face down on the sofa in the main room, a rag and dish of water on the floor near where his hand lay draped and next to it a bottle of strong liquor.

"Rise 'n' shine master!" yelled Terrance then kicked the couch of which the sufferer lay.

His whole body shuddered in a violent conniption as he pushed himself up, groaned horribly and squinted at the perpetrator of his disturbance, "What in the sam hill you saying?"

"You got customers out front."

Sitting up right while massaging his face, Durango picked up the empty bottle, examined it then asked with a horrible groggy voice, "Animals or business?"

"Both."

He looked up with a peculiar eye, the other being nothing but a socket of collapsed tissue with a streak of red between the eyelid, rarely did he have buyer interested in both his professions and it would naturally cause concern.

"Who are they?"

Terrance had to put more of an effort into how he was to answer.

"Kind of a mixed bag. A mute, a sailor, a nun, a masked man, a boy, a mountaineer and two doctors."

Durango's jaw came open, "How the hell you come by that collection?"

Terrance flexed his eyebrows, "Leaves of all shapes and sizes, once they break free from their branches, get blown together by the wind"

Durango rose up, took his eye patch and applied it to hide his unsightly half and said with resignation to his duty as he collected his hat, "Well let's see what the wind blew in."

As the door came ajar and Durango stepped past the threshold and down the steps he also exited the shade which, due to his courting of strong drink the night prior, punished his senses with the harsh light forcing him to shield his eyes with the brim of his hat.

He approached the troupe with a gait that, though did not stagger, was afflicted with hangover and bruises. The first face he saw was Holo's who, taken by her sightliness, cooed, "Hello, what have we here?"

She gave him an uneasy curtsy, "We need your help."

His eye moved passed her shoulder and spied Agatha and Jethro of which it rolled up when recognizing them, "Don't tell me, you have another contract you wanna muck up."

Agatha, who could not let that remark go acquitted seethed, "From we stood, you did that aplenty without our help."

Durango pointed a finger at her, "For your information, that's how I was gonna get that money from Madrid because any other bounty hunter worth his salt would've known coming to one such as slithery as Dubois with his contract in hand would've had a snowball's chance in hell to collect. Yeah I was slipping cards but how else was I gonna get that money from a cheat like him?!"

Agatha held her tongue but not so much her temper which was made manifest with a disagreeing shake of the head as she looked elsewhere. Setting his gaze on Holo Durango said, "If you're going around hiring bounty hunters like them, you need more than just my help, you'll need all the help under heaven and on earth."

Holo remained composed as though she walked on shaky ground, "Well…that is why we have come to you."

His eyebrows dinted, "What's the job?"

"To settle some unfinished business with an old enemy."

He scoffed, "I've got many enemies you'll have to narrow that one down."

Holo, when realizing perhaps she was not qualified to curse him with the revelation that Jurgen was still alive, bowed her head with resolution, "Perhaps he would be the best one to tell you."

The 'he' of whom she referenced came into view as she receded from his line of sight so that Nikiski could be seen as he came forward. Durango suddenly appeared stricken, as if every foul moment and mind shattering trial that left him worse for ware was re experienced in a heartbeat.

Not a word was spoken between the two save the breathe of wind encouraging their hair and raiments to flutter.

Alas Nikiski spoke with that raspy whisper that served as his voice, "…Orion…"

He took a step back, "What in the hell you doing here Aric?"

Nikiski put up a hand in attempts to quell the tempest of torment swirling within his bosom, "…Our old enemy…"

He shot his finger at him, "No, no, he's dead we both know it. Those days are behind us now, we can move on with our lives. Those were the words we parted on remember?"

Nikiski shook his head, "He's rebuilt." said he which afflicted him with coughs and hacks.

That's when Ranger stepped forth, "Jurgen De Buhr survived and has been wreaking havoc once more."

"I don't know how you know about him or how the hell you know about me, but I think the wind is blowing down to the gait, why don't ya follow it? And don't let hit you on the way out."

"I am on the errand of Laternieux."

"Wait,' stammered Stetson, 'Rupert sent you?"

"Indeed, it was his council to reunite the warbirds again to face this threat a final time."

Shaking while becoming seven shades of pale the petrified bounty hunter said, "You know I told that old man I was done with him and his band of vigilantes and to never come looking for me again! The only way you're here is because he didn't give a toss about my wishes. But you can tell him I'm not going back to the rangers and I sure as hell ain't going back to Jurgen! In fact no force in heaven or on earth will make me do otherwise!"

Holo addressed him, "Please, you are the only one who can help us!"

Stetson looked upon her, his mind a collection of pages in a hurricane, "What more could I do for you?"

Holo, taking great caution in how she was to relay this information, said, "We were on the hunt but Jurgen has evaded us. Of all the people to have ever sought justice upon him you knew the most about his operations. You might know where he may have gone to or at the very least how to track him."

Durango made a swift correction, "No the one person who knew that bastard better than anyone went by the name Eagle."

Nikiski let out a sigh of despair which Durango was not to let go unnoticed, "Yeah Aric, you remember him right? Our brave leader! When we went by those stupid names! What happened to us Aric? What happened with all that blasted knowledge we had? You should know, Eagle died, we barely made it out with our lives, each of us left something behind."

He turned to Ranger making a disrespectful scoff, "And now Rupert found a new pawn dumb enough to run his errands.' then seeing his half pinky and ring fingers encouraged himself while motioning towards them, 'Tell me son, those the only souvenirs you got running with this outfit?"

Ranger folded his arms to hide his hand in the crease of his armpit, "We all know the risks before we signed on."

Stetson seemed to become internally irate if not for Holo moving in to parley between them, "Please you are our last resort."

His attitude shifted to that of agitated intrigue, "Last resort?"

Though her kindness and compassion were not her strongest attributes relatively speaking, Holo could employ them at their strongest when at her most vulnerable, "We have traveled very far and suffered many hardships to hunt the man down ourselves but all other options have dried up. That is why we are coming to you, to beseech your help."

Durango eyed her with an uncomfortable scrutinizing gaze then asked with cold hearted epiphany, "I see the ones behind you; hard and rugged, the looks of mercenaries. But then I see you, soft, supple and in no way a killer. How'd you get thrown in with this lot?"

Well,' started Holo, 'it is a long story, but I am involved because I am a target and victim of Jurgen De Buhr."

A chill of terror slithered its way up his spine at the near mentioning of the name associated with his trauma, "What could you have possibly done to get on his hit list? Are you nobility? Or the daughter of some rich big shot?"

Holo bowed her head in absolution, "No it is not that."

"Then what?"

The people surrounding her casually stepped back in anticipation as to what would transpire next.

She withdrew her hood and cloak so her wolfish assets could be revealed, "It is because of this."

Though Durango made no formal reaction one could tell by his stillness that he was in fact reacting.

"Figures…' he finally said stiffly, 'figured he'd still be going on that charade of hunting down the pagan gods if he'd still be around and kicking. Have you ever thought of just hanging your hat someplace else to avoid getting axed?"

Holo informed while withholding her pain, "He burned down my home, he kidnapped my husband…the father of the child within me."

He stumbled as if electrocuted then regained himself, "So it' s more than a hunt, it's a rescue?"

Holo nodded frantically, "Yes. Please will you help us?"

He looked as though he were a frightened child, "You want my help all of you? Here's my help; Give it up, he ain't worth the thousands of things he could have done to each and every one of you.' then setting his eyes on Holo said while backing away, 'I'm sorry 'bout yer man, but to be honest, if he ain't dead by now he'll soon be."

"But…" interrupted Holo of which he would not stand for, "And by some small stroke of luck he survives, won't be long til he'll put himself at the end of a rope to end it that way. Either way Jurgen always wins!"

Holo clasped her heart and gasped of which Agatha was quick to console. Before any and all hope vanished Jethro addressed him, "Can we at least have some horses?"

Durango ceased his retreat, "You need horses?"

"Yes, we have a wagon without a team, if you will not come with us to help your old friend and this poor woman then at least help in any other way!"

Durango pondered the request then pointed towards the stables, "I have a fine selection, talk with the stable hand and work something out with him."

He turned and went back into the lodge from whence he came leaving them alone with Terrance who was at a complete loss for words. He came up to Holo who was still unraveling the horrible words her ears had to endure and said softly, "Don't worry, I'll talk to him. Have faith little lady."

* * *

The front door to the house lightly came ajar granting the egress Terrance required to enter. Once he had done so he found Stetson sitting on the couch his arms draped over his knees and staring out the window without so much as saying a word.

Dusting his gloved hands off while approaching he said, "You really gonna turn them down?"

He said nothing.

"You really gonna turn her down?"

Again he said nothing.

Then with more adamance, "You really gonna turn an old brother in arms down?"

Alas the invocation to turn his head came, "I can't do it again."

Terrance leaned against the wall nearby, "I know you don't like it when I pry into your personal history, but exactly what was that all about?"

Stetson shook his head but relented greatly, "A long time ago you could say I ran with another gang of do goods, y'know, before the ranch was built."

"Think I remember that." said Terrance while trying to recollect, "you mentioned doing something before you built the place."

Stetson nodded, "Yeah…there's a reason I never wanted to talk about it.' said he as if the very barriers of his soul had come loose.

"And now you just stared it in the face." concurred Terrance.

"More or less." said he while taking a swig from a new bottle.

Terrance was silent for a moment then said, "Look, if there's unfinished business I don't think ignoring it will…."

"We're done talking about it!" snapped Durango who took another drink, stood and went into the kitchen to raid the pantry.

Terrance shook his head then turned it when hearing another party advancing down the path rather quickly. The individuals threw themselves from off their saddles and ran up the steps to knock on the door.

"Now what is it?" came the voice of an even more irritated Durango from beyond the kitchen perimeter.

The door was opened for they who called and in walked two finally dressed men one baring a scabbard on his hip, "Durango! Durango!" he yelled with parchments in his hand that he kept close to his chest as if to protect them at all costs.

"Who is it?" replied the aggressive voice of the man.  
"It's the constable and the mayor." Terrance answered for them.

There was some silence knowing whatever brought men of such rank to his doorstep the situation was dire.

The mayor looked to Terrance and ordered, "Hitch our horses boy!"

Durango came around the dividing wall into the living room and scowled while wiping his hands, "Boy's name is Terrance Mr. Mayor and he ain't in the business providing a service for you for free on the ranch he co-owns."

The words were bold but the greatest asset that allowed him to speak in such a manner to the officiate was that he possessed what they sought, his talent. The mayor corrected himself but only reluctantly for it was not in the nature of most men of his position to take such a reproach. But in order to stay on favorable terms with Durango offered terrance a silver coin and said in a kinder fashion, "Will you hitch our horses for us sir?"

Terrance swiped it before a second thought could be remedied and walked out, "Your the boss."

Coming back to the topic at hand Durango asked, "What can I do you for you?"

The constable presented the parchments which turned out to be wanted posters, "It's Liz and Barlow, we need them brought to justice."

He took the parchments with more or less an attitude to smite them, then looked them over. Lifting his eyes beyond the top of the paper he said with a smile, "I know the routine, catch em' , bring em' in, get paid then they get out on bail due to some bureaucratically charged misstep. Then once they're out it's bad news for the sad saps stupid enough to hunt them down."

"This time they've gone too far."

"Yep,' said Durango as a man who had undergone this routine countless times, 'I'm sure they have, maybe you should actually find a way to keep them in jail eh?"

He proceeded to hand the papers back but the constable stopped him mid pass, "Mr. Stetson, we don't intend on having them put in jail, we want them six feet under."

"You want em' dead?" Durango said with astoundment. He then looked over the details more fully, "They killed a judge?"

The mayor blurted in, "And his family. They are trying to usurp our justice system by frightening our judges into exonerating their gangs and affiliates with the fear of death!"

Durango smirked in wonderment to what esteemed system of justice the mayor may have been referring to. It has now surely been well established that a society depended on bounty hunters to maintain judicial balance is well worse for wear. Finally he yielded, "Killing a judge is punishable by death. Yeah sure I'll bring em' back cold for ya."

Again the constable corrected his assumption but with much more secrecy, "No Mr. Stetson, you are not to bring back anyone."

Durango kept his expressions even, "You mean let the wolves and buzzards have what's left?"

"If that's the way you see it."

This was not a typical bounty collection.

"Under the table manhunt?' questioned Durango, "We know who has Liz 'n' Barlow's backs, the Chestertons and Parquers. When word get out that you put a hit on their kids and left em' dead in the dirt we'll be far from the only people killed."

"We're cleaning the entire slate." said the constable with cold confidence.

Durango nearly dropped the papers, "The Chesterton and Parquer families are all going to meet with fate?"

"Exactly, it's been approved by the city council, we can't take the risk with any of them being alive."

"Who do you have working that out?"  
"We can't tell you, neither are we telling anyone who's going after Liz and Barlow. We're playing this very close to the chest."

Durango shook his head, "I don't know about this."  
The mayor then extended forth a note, "This is a detailed letter regarding payment."

He took it, opened it and nearly lost composure, "Wow, you crazy sons of bitches are serious about this."

"Indeed we are sir."

He huffed, it was all against his better judgment but overall he was overpowered by other factors crossing his mind, "Alright fine I'll do it."

The mayor nearly jumped for joy if not for the subduing of the constable, "Much appreciated now here are some things you ought to know. They've been tipped off and know someone's coming. Naturally the Chesterton and the Parquer families have sent them off hiding somewhere and provided gangs and all other protection money can buy."

"That's a lot for one man to handle." said he.

"Which is why we're giving you the freedom to hire a gang of your own to even the odds."

"I don't hire gangs just send some of your grunts my way constable."

"We cannot,' reminded the constable, 'this operation must be kept off all records and out of as many minds as possible. My underlings will be the first ones questioned by the criminal underworld and they may talk. You select your own members and tell not a single soul. Absolutely nothing can be traced back to you or us."

He paused a long moment, carefully balanced his options then said, "Well it's your lucky day because I just might have the gang."

Shortly after the constable and mayor departed Holo and company were still seen in the stables observing the horses and finding ways to bargain in obtaining them. It all came to a head when Durango approached them with posters in hand while stating, "Alright I'll help you."

A waive of relief seemed to come over Holo.

"But,' said Durango causing her to become apprehensive once more, 'you're going to help me first."

* * *

** Vermilil Facts **

(Not a whole lot this chapter)

-The Liz and Barlow outlaws mentioned in the end along with the Chesterton and Parquer families are references to Bonnie and Clyde. Whose full names are Bonnie Elizabeth Parker and Clyde Chestnut Barrow. Some moderations made of course.

-The gambling game Dubois was playing was a reference to Texas Hold em' but I really don't understand the rules, I one once because I didn't know what i was doing and went all in to end it and had and ended up with the winning hand so I had to keep playing, frankly I was pissed.

-The introduction and involvement of Terrance is not in anyway a politically charged decision or to fill some diversity quota. I had it planned out long before to have a character like him it was just a matter of how and when.

-That belief described, the one that people with black skin was caused by the burning sun in the eastern lands, is in fact a reference to the manga. I can't remember the exact volume but there's a scene with Lawrence talking with another trader and states very clearly that's what his understanding was on the issue.

-The notion that darker skinned people were slaves also comes from the original source material one being in novel 12 when describing the character Fran Vonely.

I bring this up because some might think it odd or insensitive when first reading or may just assume I'm referencing American politics and history (partially true) but the truth is, this was the lore of the spice and wolf universe established by Hasekura himself. I'm not going to retcon or make changes to the established canon.


End file.
